


SoS 2017 - Fireworks - EviltwinAU

by Bratjedi



Series: Summer of Stancest 2017 [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dehumanization, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Verbal Abuse, depictions of injuries, mentions of previous prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bratjedi/pseuds/Bratjedi
Summary: Stan escapes





	SoS 2017 - Fireworks - EviltwinAU

Escaping was always on his mind. Since day one of being imprisoned by his brother it was his goal. For a year he struggled against his brothers conditioning, tried to find anyway out he could. Eventually he realized the way to get Ford to do what he wanted was to do what he said, to bark and take his dick for as long as he needed just to get basic essentials. He had been let out of his room and into the house, something he had never gotten before. So now he wasn't going to waste his brothers stupidity. 

 

Getting out was easy enough, breaking a window with the heaviest thing Ford had around. Getting his car started was what stopped him. He hadn't expected the engine to be taken out. The sight alone made him want to go beat the shit out of Ford right there but he didn't have the time. Instead he found his way to the closest bus station with what money he could find in Ford's coat pockets. 

 

It had been three weeks now, already in Cali and heading as South as he could get. 

Already wanted for robbing a gas station, he spent most of his time in the shadows, just moving, barely ever stopping in fear of Ford finding him. 

 

Little did he know, someone else already had his scent.

 

Ford should have known Stan’s recent behavior was too good to be true. Should have  _ known _ he couldn't trust him. He laughed bitterly at the realization of just how idiotic he had been. He should have known. He should have  _ known. _

 

But no. Instead after just a few months of exceptional behavior on Stan’s part. Of Stan being so  _ perfect  _ he had thought-

 

He had thought they could celebrate their  _ birthday.  _

 

He growled and his hands tightened on the steering wheel of the car he had ‘borrowed’ from one of the townspeople. He glared to the road ahead of him before turning the glare at the silent tracking device in the seat next to him. When this was over, when he had Stanley  _ back  _ he was dedicating his time to inventing a better tracking chip. Something that could tell him where Stanley was  _ no matter what _ and no matter how far he ran.

 

But for now he simply drove, waiting for the moment the tracker picked up a signal and started to beep.

 

\------

Rico hadn't planned on tracking down Stanley. At least not to the extent where he had to put  _ effort  _ into finding the man that had seemingly vanished off the face of earth after a short stay in New Mexico. It had been annoying of course. Stanley had been  _ profitable  _ and he had no idea that he had technically paid off his debts threefold at this point but that's how Rico  _ liked it.  _ It's how he kept his whores in line.

 

So when Stanley decided to run it had been a loss, one he had intended to get back until the trail ran dry and he cut his losses.

 

Then the wanted add and video came across the TV in his rundown Southern California hotel and he couldn't help but smile. They always showed back up eventually. He picked up the phone and made a few quick calls. It was time to get his product back. 

 

Stanley breathed in hard as he took a rest against a back alley wall, wiping his grimy hands against his face as he fought to keep from crying. Why had his life come to this? Why couldn't he have settled down with Carla, had a normal life? Nothing ever went his way, never. He swallowed hard as he pulled open his bag, looking at the money he had left. It was getting late...should he risk sleeping outside or get a motel…

 

He sniffed and wiped at his nose before forcing himself to keep moving despite how much pain his legs were in. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and got the cheapest motel he could find. He didn't even know which town he was in but it didn't matter. He was away from his brother. 

He relaxed as he leaned back against the door as he closed it behind himself and tossed his stuff down before making a bee-line for the shower. 

 

It'd been three weeks and he was just now giving in enough to shower...he sighed as the hot water hit his face. If tears joined the water, he couldn't tell the difference. 

 

Rico’s men had tracked Stan down to a small south California town and, miraculously, one of the hotels that Rico’s people frequented so it wasn't too much of a shock to the front desk when Rico showed up asking after him. They simply handed him the extra keys and let him go, obviously thinking that Stanley was one of  _ his _

 

And he was. Even if he had been  _ absent  _ for a while.

 

He let himself into the room, leaving his guards outside as he locked the door behind him and moved to sit on the bed. He could hear the shower running and he hummed as he looked around, taking in all of Stanley’s shit which was pretty much nothing. A dufflebag and some filthy cloths. Probably meant he wasn't armed which made Rico smile as he took out his own gun and sat it next to him, waiting for Stanley to get out.

 

Stan took his sweet time, trying to calm his mind as he thought of his next move. Ford was going to find him if he wasn't smart about this… his gut told him no matter what he did, he'd never escape him but he could at least  _ try _ . He was good at running, he'd been doing it since he was 18. If he could avoid Rico, he could avoid Ford. 

 

Once he was done, he sighed as he got out, scrubbing at his hair before wrapping his towel around his waist and shambled out of the bathroom rubbing at one eye with a yawn. 

 

He was a little out of it so as he saw someone sitting on his bed, he immediately thought it was Ford. He took in a sharp gasp and stumbled back into the door frame, eyes wide as he realized just who it was. 

 

“R-rico?” He breathed, eyes darting to the gun. “no- no, come on!” He let out in frustration, his breathing picking up. He let out a nervous chuckle, fear in his eyes as he tried to back up into the room further. 

“Hey uh...l-long time no see, huh? You uh- you look good” he strained as he glanced for the door.

 

Rico pulled out a knife after he realized Stanley would be a while and started to clean under his nails with it. He had waited this long to find Stanley. He could wait a little longer for him to shower. He flipped the knife shut though as the water turned off and palmed the gun instead and looking up as the door opened, looking completely unimpressed by Stanley’s appearance.

 

“And you look like shit.” Rico scoffed as he looked Stanley over. The guy had certainly lost weight and muscle mass it looked like but Stanley’s  _ looks  _ had never been the money maker anyway. “Where’ve you been Stanley? Almost gave up on ya but, well,  _ here we are.”  _ He said indicating to the room around them. “You owe me a lot of money Stanley. A  _ lot  _ of money. Not to mention the  _ interest _ on that money from the time you’ve been gone and just  _ looking  _ at you I know you ain't got shit.” He scoffed, pointedly looking Stanley up and down. “So you know how this goes  _ sweetheart _ . You ready to start working again or we doing this the  _ hard  _ way.” He finished, trying to meet Stanley’s eyes and frowning at his inability to meet them. That was...new. Stanley had always had a  _ bite  _ to him. It would be a shame, or more like a  _ loss in profits _ if that was gone.

 

Stanley swallowed hard as Rico talked, wincing a little as he mentioned all the money he owed, the interest on said money. He couldn't look at the man either, eyes either down or just to the right of Rico, that or darting for the door. 

“some uh...family stuff came up…” he breathed, then glanced at him but couldn't keep it and looked away. 

 

He winced even harder as he was called sweetheart and clenched his trembling hands as he glanced at the gun. “I uh...c-cant, got a new gig. Somethin honest...if you just gave me a little time, I'd have the money” he said mindlessly as he inched for the door. 

 

A thought crossed his mind, that deep voice that had been keeping him company for some time now.  _ ‘let him shoot you’ _

 

He gave a weak smile “Got tired of suckin dick anyhow, you know how it goes…” he breathed before making a dash for the door, trembling hands just barely getting the lock open.

 

Rico didn’t bother moving as Stanley made a dash for the door. The boys outside knew what to do it Stanley got out. Still he cocked this gun and held it up, pointing it at the other man’s back. “Come on sweetheart, don’t go and do this. Your a valuable asset to me. Could probably paid off that debt of yours within a few months if you hadn’t run.” Not that Rico would have let him but Stanley didn’t need to know that. “Don’t want to shoot you, that would be a waste of good money, but I don’t need you walking to work.” he said, aiming the gun lower. “Gonna try running? Let’s see how far you get.” 

 

Stan’s entire body jerked as he heard the gun cock, his hand gripping the door handle almost too hard as he tried to calm himself. He was fine. He’d been in worse situations with this asshole before. He glanced over his shoulder at him, fear but also...satisfaction going through him at seeing the gun pointed his way. He shook his head and leaned it against the door, swallowing hard as he listened to him. He then frowned as Rico aimed the gun lower and grit his teeth, knowing he wouldn’t even make it out the door before a bullet went through his leg.    
“You know that's bullshit, Rico…” he breathed.   
“You’d be better off just killing me” he mumbled, his hands shaking as he swallowed and held his breath. He didn’t know what to do...he wasn’t getting out of this...Maybe...maybe if he fought just right he wouldn’t have to deal with anything ever again.    
  
So on suicidal initiative, he was moving as fast as he could to open the door and get out, nearly falling with his effort to get out of the motel. Why he hadn’t remembered Rico always had men with him, he didn’t know but as they moved to grab him, he let out a horrible scream as terror took over instead.    
  
“ **_NO! NO, LET GO! HELP ME!_ ** ” he let out in a hard scream, desperate for anyone to hear him, for anyone to  _ care _ enough to call the cops or  _ something _ . 

 

Rico shook his head and uncocked the gun before putting it away as his men grabbed Stanley, one of them trying to cover his mouth with his hand to keep him silent. They were in a sitty enough place that it wouldn’t really matter really but they should probably take this somewhere else just in case some  _ good samaritan  _ decided to call the cops. “Pack him up boys. Were taking this home.” he said, moving towards his car and opening up the trunk as the guys he brought struggled to pull Stanley along and stuff him into the boot. “We’ll beat him back into submission and get him back on the street in no time.” he said, moving to start the car and get it going as soon as he heard the trunk slam shut. Overall it wasn’t a bad night and Rico was almost looking forward to breaking in his old toy again. 

 

If anything having something to properly punch would be fun.

 

He smiled as he drove off, the other two sitting in the back silently as they made it further and further away from town and anyone that could help.

 

A couple hundred miles away a soft beeping started in the passenger seat of a borrowed car and Stanford  _ smiled.  _

 

Stan screamed louder and tried to shake the hand off of his mouth, letting out a desperate sob before his fight instinct kicked in and he instead bit the hand. He struggled and kicked and nearly pulled away only to be picked up and practically thrown into the back of Rico’s car, the towel somewhere along the way lost.    
“PLEASE, PLEASE, I’M SORRY, RICO!” he screamed as he pounded on the trunk, sobs shaking out of his body as fear took over, the darkness surrounding him to suffocating levels.    
  
He had never wanted to be in the trunk of a car again, but here he was bouncing along the road and screaming himself hoarse. He was cold and upset and just plain exhausted by the time he stopped hearing city life. Somewhere along the line he had fallen asleep, something he was glad for. He could escape in sleep, ignore the horrors of the world for at least a couple hours. 

 

That was until the trunk was opening and he was being roughly grabbed awake, dry tears staining his face as he whimpered. He swallowed and struggled weakly, little sobs escaping him as he was too tired to try and hide his fear. “Rico- Rico, please, I’m sorry. I had to leave- I had to, I- please don’t do this to me, im sorry” he cried

 

Stanley yelled and screamed for a good portion of the trip before finally falling silent, either resigned to his fate or passed out. Rico didn’t care which one. Instead he put on some soft spanish music and sung along for the rest of the trip to fill the silence that had been left behind. 

 

It was about thirty minutes later that they pulled up to a dilapidated little house, something that was probably owned thirty years ago by some old farmer and was abandoned for ruin once they died. It served Rico’s purposes just fine though, a small house in the middle of nowhere. It was a perfect place for discreet things like this. 

 

The boys moved around to the back to pull Stanley out as Rico himself took his time to get back there, easily fitting a pair of brass knuckles onto his hands as he walked down the car. Stanley was already begging and pleading but Rico didn’t pay him or his words much mind as he pulled his fist back and send a right hook directly to Stanley’s face. “I tell you went to speak bitch. Now get him inside.” he said. Directing the first comment to stanley and the second to the two men holding him in place. “I want to get this started. I’m going to  _ enjoy  _ breaking him in again.”

 

Stan whimpered and struggled against the two men, wishing he had eaten something before, had gotten strength up to fight against this bullshit but he was weak and feeling like death warmed over. Why did this have to happen? Why wasn’t he smart enough to remember which hotels Rico used? Why hadn’t he thought the man would show up? He was so concerned about Ford finding him he hadn’t even considered… He looked up at Rico as the man finally came around the car, tears already sliding down his face. “Rico-” he started only to have a brass knuckled punch hit him right across the face, something that would've sent him to the floor if he wasn’t being held up.    
  
He let out a pained cry and tried to pull his hands free, wanting to cradle his cheek but couldn’t as he was dragged inside to Rico’s command.    
“Stop, please, please” he begged, stumbling and gasping as he was dragged into the house, his body shivering with the night’s cold air.    
  
He just barely got away from the men as they struggled with his dead weight and made for the other side of the room, promptly tripping over some rubble. He groaned and sat back, looking up at Rico with fear as he advanced on him. “Please- D-don’t, come on-” he gasped, trying to scoot away, trying to get up to run, anything to get away from the look of murder on the man’s face

 

Rico let Stanley struggle, let him beg and try and run knowing that, no matter what, he wouldn’t get away. He approached him slowly, putting the other brass knuckle on as he moved forward, listening to Stanley’s begging. “You know, I always appreciated your skills with this Stanley.” he commented, holding up his fists so stanley could see the brass knuckles, one blooded and one still clean. “You recognize them? You left them when you ran. You probably want them back don’t you?” he laughed, moving forward and stepping sharply on Stanley’s leg. There was a fading bruise there and it must have been one hell of a thing when it was fresh since it looked like it had to be weeks since it was faded to an ugly yellow-green color. He kneeled down in front of him, his expression a mix of annoyance, anger, and anticipation. He was out for blood. 

 

He looked at Stanley a moment longer before jumping him, pinning him down with his weight and punching him solidly across the face, again, and again, and again.

 

Stan struggled to get up, falling against more rubble as he looked back at Rico with wide eyes. He frowned as he talked about his skill and realized just what Rico was wearing. Anger filled him and he glared up at him, teeth gritting which made his cheek ache. “yeah I do, just to knock a few more of your teeth out you ugly son of a bitch” he bit, sounding more like the man he was before his brother ruined him. 

 

Then Rico was stepping on his leg, the one Ford had injured before and it left him crying out with pain, back arching a little as he squirmed. He breathed in hard as Rico leaned down to look at him, his own expression having gone from fearful to fearful and defiant. He leaned back a little, breath shaky. “Your breath stinks--” he managed before getting jumped. 

 

He fell back, hitting his head on wood and cried out with the first punch, his arms moving up to try and block Rico's punches. He struggled under him, hands moving up to try and punch Rico back, nothing compared to what he used to be able to throw. 

 

His face was bloodied, nose probably broken and flooded with so much blood he couldn't breathe through it. “piece of shit, get off of me!” He screamed and through the struggle he managed to knee Rico in the nuts, giving him just enough to crawl before forcing himself up and running further into the house. He stumbled and fell, breathing hard as he tried to look for a way out. He felt so dizzy…

 

Rico grunted and rolled away as Stanley kneed him, cursing sharply under his breath as he tried to shake off the pain. Now  _ that  _ was the Stanley he remembered. That fight that his customers liked to beat out of him before fucking him; something Rico fully intended to do himself. 

 

He moved up, adjusting the brass knuckles as he started after Stan, following the dripping trail of blood as he tried to run. “We’re in the middle of nowhere Stan! Where do you plan to go? You might as well just give into your fate and be  _ thankful _ I'm giving you this opportunity. Looks to me like your bum ass has been in the pits since I found you anyway.” He mumbled, pulling a cigarette box from his shirt pocket and pulled one out to light. He stood over Stan once he caught up, taking a long drew and simply studied him.

 

“Ready for round two? Or maybe you want to try begging again like the pansy you are. Go on, let's hear it.”

 

Stan panted as he looked around, trying to find somewhere to get out of the house from. It was so run down why the hell wasn't there a hole to get out from? He looked behind him as he heard Rico's voice and foot steps and swallowed hard, wincing a little. 

He struggled to get up, leg aching but managed to pull himself up only to get so dizzy he fell against the closest wall. He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed before weakly looking up at Rico as he came in. He frowned as he lot a cigarette, phantom burn scars already aching. 

 

“what kind of fucking opportunity is this?” He panted, then pushed himself back against the wall a little more, looking pained and miserable. “I've been fine without you whoring me…” he mumbled but even he could hear the desperate lie. 

 

He glared weakly as Rico told him to beg again and instead spat blood at the man's shoes, collapsing back against the wall as he breathed. “I'm done being your bitch, Rico. Rather die than even look at that nasty dick o yours” he slurred

 

Rico scoffed and kicked his now blooded shoe out, catching Stanley across the face before leaning down to get into his face again. “It won't be my dick you're seeing tonight. I’m going to let my boys have their fun with you instead.” he hissed before moving to put out his cigaret against Stanley’s forehead before backing up, the other two men having made their way into the room at that point. Rico backed up and let the two of them move forward, one looking serious and the other smiling as they did so.

 

“You boys have fun. I want to hear  _ screaming _ while you work.” he said before leaving them to the room. 

 

Stan let out a muffled groan as he was kicked, body moving with it, sending him to the ground which he pushed against weakly. He looked up at Rico, tears shining in his eyes as he struggled to keep up right. With hearing that the other two would be abusing him instead, panic flashed over his face and he took in a sharp breath only to let out a pained cry as Rico put out his cigarette against his forehead. The searing pain made him jerk back, arm going up and pressing against the burned skin which did not help in the least. “Rico you stupid son of a bitch-!” He yelled only to look like a startled animal as the other two came in. 

 

He tried to push himself up and away from them as they advanced, a little sound escaping him. “don't fucking touch me- don't! I'll fucking kill you, no!” He screamed as one grabbed his leg and pulled him down. Despite the pain he was in, he kicked and shoved at the men the best he could, angry shouts leaving him as he tried to punch and kick. “get off of me!!!” He screamed with desperation as the tears slid down his face

 

“I'll hold him down first” one said, already manhandling Stanley with the help of the other guy so he could hold him securely, Stanley’s back pressed against his chest and both of his arms pulled sharply back and twisted with his captors. It left Stanley’s legs free but the other guy was fast to deal with that as he bent Stanley nearly in half and settled between them, trying to keep the angle awkward for Stanley to kick out from. He started to undo his fly, grunting every so often as Stan’s foot managed a lucky hit but mostly ignored it as his eyes looking Stanley over. “Would have expected something prettier with the way Rico talked” the guy comment as the one holding Stanley shrugged. 

 

“Guys got weird taste. Not our job to comment on it. It's too bed he didn't give us something to keep that mouth open with though. Heard this guys mouth was  _ killer” _

 

The guy on Stanley’s legs hummed at that and dug around his pocket for a small pack to lube and tore it open with his teeth. He coated his fingers with a drop and unceremoniously shoved two inside of Stanley.

 

“Damn. Guys already loose. He was definitely still getting some before we found him.” He commented, twisting his fingers sharply. 

 

“Probably still working as a whore.” The other guy laughed “doubt he knows how to do anything else ha?” The guy said, jostling Stanley lightly for an answer.

 

Stan yelled and struggled the best he could as he was pulled back against one of their chests, arms yanked back painfully but despite it he tried to twist his wrists free. As his legs were left alone for a moment, he was quick to kick and try and knee at the one in front of him, his breathing hard as harsh words escaped him as he struggled. “get off of me you ugly piece of shit- stop!! Ah!” He cried as his legs were shoved up, knees practically over the man's shoulders which left him open and feeling disgustingly vulnerable. 

 

He felt sick as the man said he expected something prettier, already treating him like an object. He hated that he was one of Rico's favorites. He hated the way he talked about him and he hated the way these two talked together like he wasn't even there. 

 

He gasped and writhed, gritting his teeth as the man behind him said he had heard he was good with his mouth. “I'll bite your fucking dick off you- ngh! S-stop- oh god, don't!” He cried as the man in front of him lubed his fingers with not nearly enough lube. He tried to squirm his ass away, tried to clench or something but as the fingers were shoved inside, he was letting out a sharp sob, his head falling back as his back arched painfully. “stop!!! Don't, fuck- get your fingers out of mee--nhg-Aah-ha!” He screamed and jerked as the man twisted his fingers inside of him, his face heating up with shame at the jolt of pleasure he got from it. 

 

With their words, his mind was brought back to Ford, to the somewhat gentle sex they had had just weeks before and he let out a frustrated sob. Tears slid down his face harder with the man behind hims words and shook his head, gritting his teeth. “shut the fuck up-! I'll fucking kill you- Ah- AaHH- stop!” He screamed as the man in front scissored his fingers. He threw his head back despite the pounding in it and managed to hit the idiot behind him square on the nose, causing his hold to falter and let go of an arm. 

 

He quickly sent a punch flying at the one in front while his hands were busy. He struggled out of their hold the best he could, the world swimming as he tried to escape. 

 

_ “Fucking bitch!’  _ The guy who’s nose was likely bruised, if not broken, cursed while the other simply grunted as he as he took a punch to his cheek, only just being able to turn his head in time to prevent becoming dazed like his partner which was probably the only reason he was able to react quickly enough to tackle Stan back down, moving quickly and efficiently to pin him to the ground, his arm twisted painfully behind his back and the guards knee pressed sharply against his lower back. His partner was still dazed and clutching his bleeding nose which was annoyance since it left  _ him  _ simply pinning this guy down to the floor, the lube still on his fingers making the gold awkward. 

 

“You give all your clients this much trouble?” He asked, his voice sounding painfully neutral as he put more weight into his hold. “My partner's going to be wanting you  _ bloody _ after that move bud. This is about to become a lot worse for you.”

 

Stan cried out in frustration as he was tackled, his arm aching as it was twisted and pinned painfully to his back. He squirmed and gasped with pain as it just aided in making his arm hurt more. He tried to get out of it, tried to twist and move into the man but the knee pressing painfully into his back making it hard.    
  
He grit his teeth with his words and glared up at him the best he could. “You’re confusing the word clients for rapists, you piece of shit- I never wanted this! Let go!” he yelled, then cried out as more weight was put onto his arm and back. 

He took in a shaking breath as he squirmed, sniffling pitifully through his bloodied nose. “Please, please I just want to go home” he sobbed. Thick tears rolled from his eyes and fear spread through him as the man he hit finally put his hand down and looked at him with pure predatorial anger. He took in a sharp breath and struggled harder, his arm weak from the stress he was putting on it. “Please, please, I’m sorry! I just want to have a normal life, please!” he sobbed, trying to shrink away from him.    
“Don’t do this- don’t- s-stop-- DON’T TOUCH ME!” he screamed as the man grabbed hold of him, panic coursing through him as he tried desperately to get away. 

 

_ “I'm going to rip your goddamn teeth out!”  _ The one with the bloodied nose seethed as he grabbed Stanley’s hair and pulled his head up sharply, his other hand moving to squeeze at his jaw as if trying to force it open. 

 

“Much as I like that idea man, don't think Rico would appreciate it.” The guy on top of Stan commented, shaking his head as he watched the other guy dig thumbs into Stan’s already bruised and bleeding face.

 

“And why not? Bitch wouldn't be able to bite then. Might make him more docile.”

 

“Ya and cost more to care for. Just choke him out already so we can tie him up properly. I'm tired of holding him down and if I don't get to fuck  _ him _ soon then I'm going to be fucking  _ your girlfriend  _ instead.”

 

The other guy glared and grunted out a “fuck you man” but did as he was told, moving so he could get an arm around Stanley’s neck and putting him in a choke hold. “Don't sleep too long. We still want our fun and that involves making you  _ scream.” _

 

Stan let out a scared yelp as he was grabbed and desperately tried to pull head free but couldn’t with it being yanked back like it was. “NO! Let go!” He cried and whimpered with pain as the man jabbed at his already bleeding face. He sniffed and whimpered as he listened to them, still struggling weakly but there was no real fight left. He couldn’t keep up with this, not on so little strength. 

 

As the one holding him told the other to choke him out, he was going wide eyed and gasping, his mind flashing to 12 fingers wrapping and squeezing around his throat. “Don’t- d-don’t, please, I’m sorry, please-” he sobbed, struggling weakly even as the man wrapped his arm around his neck. The position left little room to fight, bent at the spine and being pulled into the choke hold. The arm not being held down, now free from being lifted grasped desperately at the man’s hold, his eyes already struggling to keep open. “S-Stop- st-s--t-o-” he struggled, eyes rolling back as the man applied pressure to his throat.   
  
His body reacted against his will, so trained to associate choking with a sexual nature that arousal just happened naturally. He didn’t stay conscious long enough for the shame of being found out to occur, his body too tired, his mind long since being able to fight. Instead he slowly closed his eyes to the black embrace being choked out gave. It was like a break, like a gift in the middle of all the abuse. He quickly became dead weight, his last thoughts were hopes of not waking up. 

 

Both of them relaxed slightly as Stanley slumped unconscious. “This piece of shits more trouble than he’s worth.” The one holding him down sighed as he finally let up and sat back, rubbing at his cheek where Stanley’s punch had hit. 

 

“Maybe but I'm still going to fuck him bloody after that last move.” The other growled as he turned Stanley over before raising an eyebrow which quickly turned into a low laugh. “Well would you look at that. Looks like someone actually  _ likes  _ the treatment he got. What a fucking freak. You got the zip ties?” He asked, as he forced Stan’s unconscious body up so they could work and bind his hands behind his back. 

 

They both made quick work of securing Stanley’s hands, both tied together and then tied again into an exposed pipe near the floor in one of the rotting walls. It would work for what they needed.

 

Once secure they didn't waste time on getting back into slicking Stanley up just enough so it wouldn't hurt  _ them  _ before the one with the bloodied nose moved between his legs, waiting to fuck into him. “Slap him awake. He’s been out long enough.” He told the other guy who nodded and did as asked, slapping Stanley hard across his face.

 

It was nice and dark, nice and numb and nothing could touch him. Nothing could hurt him and he wanted to stay there forever, wanted to climb into the black nothingness and never face the shit his life was again. 

Sadly however that notion was quite literally slapped from him. His head went with it and he whimpered quietly as he slowly woke up, eyes slowly blinking open as his cheek ached, more body pain seeping in as he struggled to remember where he was. He slowly looked up at the man between his legs and everything came rushing back. A soft sob escaped him and he shook his head weakly, his legs shifting a little but he had no energy to struggle. “I’m sorry” he whispered, words slurred as tears gathered back in his eyes

 

He found himself thinking about Ford, thinking about all he had been through with him but found himself longing for it instead. At least with him there was a familiarity to it, there was some form of comfort and aftercare he knew he would never get with Rico. Never did in the past, certainly wouldn’t now. In his pained haze he let out a soft little “Ford…” 

 

“Looks like that worked” the one between his legs mumbled with a sharp smile. “Hey fuck head, you ready to do your job? Not that you need to be broken in. my buddy here was right, look how loose you are.” he said, moving himself forward a bit and laughing at how easily Stanley stretched around him. “Ford your lover? He been keeping you nice and used? Maybe Rico will send him a nice thank you gift, what do you think?” he said, pushing in more as he said those words, “Maybe he  _ will _ let me pull out your teeth and send those along.” he laughed, finally thrusting in fully and cursing lightly as he bottomed out. “I want you bloody while I do this so say  _ cheese _ ” he said as he pulled a fist back and punched Stan directly in the face, splitting his lip open. “You like that you sick fuck? Saw that boner you go from us choking you out. You been playing us this whole time? Bet you  _ want  _ this don’t you.” he grunted as he started to move. The other guy who had been sitting silent to that point next to stan let out a small ‘hum’ of contemplation.

 

“If he likes choking so much I can give him something to choke on.” he said, cupping himself through his still open pants.

 

Stan blinked heavy eyes up at the man between his legs, his mind still dizzy as he tried to squirm but could barely move from exhaustion. That was until he felt the man pushing into him and he let out a sharp gasp, then a hard sob as he shrugged his shoulders, head falling forward as he tried to move his legs, tried to pull away but that just pushed the rotting wall and its jagged edges against him uncomfortably. 

 

He whimpered in confusion as the man talked about Ford, confused at how he learned his name. Did he say it out loud? He turned his head away with a breathy cry as he was called his lover and shook his head a little, whimpering as he arched his back weakly, hating the feeling of the man pushing into him uncomfortably. “S-stop-” he whispered hoarsely. A voice in his head wondered just what Ford would do if he found out where he was, who he was with. Would he care? Probably if all that territorial talk was for real. His thoughts were cut short as the man thrusted into him the rest of the way, earning a soft cry from him as he grit his teeth and tried to hold in more sobs. He panted as he looked up at the man as he talked only to go wide eyed as he realized a split second too late what the man was going to do.    
  


He let out a pained cry as he was punched, his head hitting back against the wall before falling forward again as the world swam. Tears slid down his cheeks as pain coursed through his mouth, thick blood bubbling up and then pooling down his chin. He could barely comprehend what the man was saying, something about him getting a boner or...something about choking. He was thinking about Ford again and he sniffed with another sob as the man thrusted into him. He did hear him say he probably wanted this, revulsion filling him and making him feel sicker at even the idea. “N-no-gh- please- p-ple-a-” he begged, lip aching as he talked but couldn’t keep talking as the man started moving rougher, causing him to sob and shake his head as he squirmed in his lap, tears mixing with blood to make a further mess of his face. 

 

He shook his head as he briefly heard the other man, knowing he wouldn’t be able to breath if the man shoved his dick down his throat. Maybe they'd accidentally kill him, with any luck on his part. He panted and squirmed, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable feeling of being used. 

 

“Better not.” the man fucking into Stan commented as he thrust in harder, causing the rotting wood behind Stanley to creek. “Rico said he wanted to hear him scream so we better keep that mouth free.”

 

“Then you better start making him scream before Rico gets pissed.” The other guy insisted, looking Stanley over, “Might be hard though, fucker already looks like he’s broken. Wouldn’t be surprised if he just started sobbing soon.” he said, causing the one fucking Stan to let out a deep laugh. 

 

“Well why don’t you do something to make him scream? You’ve, ungh-” he paused, eyes closing for a second as he got a good angle and sped up “You’ve got a knife. Bet Rico would love to get this bitch properly tagged.” he gasped. 

 

Stan cried out softly as the man thrusted into him harder, a disgusting spike of pleasure shooting up his spine and making him whimper. He panted, finding it getting harder to breath as the man thrusted into him, making him squirm and writhe gently in his lap as he tried to make things a bit more comfortable for himself. It was impossible to do though. 

 

He couldn’t focus on anything they were saying for the most part, just trying hard to breathe and not get splinters from the wood behind him. He couldn’t force himself into the absent state he would go into with old clients and Ford on occasion, the feeling of the man’s dick forcing itself into him too much of a constant for him to ignore. He let out sharp sob as the man adjusted and found a good spot, right against his prostate which had him crying harder as pleasure hit him wave after wave with each thrust. 

 

He panted as he shook his head, whimpering quietly as he heard the men, finally focusing on what they were saying. The idea of being tagged, marked by Rico was always something he had avoided with everything he had. He’d made deal after deal to not be marked but now he knew there was no way out of it. “Dont- d-dont- Im not- please- please” he sobbed quietly, shaking his head as he groaned, doing his best to keep in any pleasured sounds.

 

The man sitting to Stanley’s side laughed at how panicked he got an decided to take his partner's advice and pulled out his knife, flicking it open. “I’m surprised Rico hasn’t marked your ass up before.” he commented as he waited for the other guy to finish. He was fucking into him hard and fast now, it probably wouldn’t be much of a wait. “Wonder where I should put it though. Giving you a Tramp Stamp would have been best but you had to make this difficult sooo.” he hummed, tapping his knife against his lip as he contemplated. Stan’s body was mostly bent in half at this point so he couldn’t see much but he had some ideas.

 

“Could put it right on your dick. Haven’t done that one before.” he said as his partner shuddered and moaned, pushing in deep and coming hard into their captive. “Might be hard to see there though. Could do a large one across your stomach. Hip to hip. Bet it would scar nice like that.” he laughed as his partner pulled out but only moved back enough to expose Stanley’s chest and stomach for marking, staying close so he could continue to hold onto Stanley’s legs to keep him from lashing out again.

 

“My-My vote goes to somewhere visible,” he panted slightly, catching his breath from his orgasm, “but then again the bitch is going to be naked more often than not...maybe i just like the thought of that cheek all cut up.” he smiled sharply 

 

Stan flinched and sobbed as the man in him just seemed to get more aroused at hearing the knife. He panted and cried openly, giving in on the last of his restraints as he struggled to keep calm as the threat of being marked hung in the air. He sobbed as he was used harder and harder, his entire body aching as the man fucked into him. As he started to lose his rythm, he was crying harder and shaking his head. “P-pull out- s-stop- o-out- no-Nh-NGH!” he cried as the man pushed into him the rest of the way, his own body shivering as he felt him cum deep inside of him, making him sob and gasp. 

 

His head fell forward as the man pulled back, tears and blood dripping down his face and onto his own stomach as he panted. He weakly shook his head as they tried to figure out where to mark him and he slowly lifted his head, his body trembling as he worked himself into a panic at the thought of being marked. “P-please, don’t- h-he’ll be mad- please, Ford’ll be mad” he babbled mindlessly, shaking his head as he cried.    
  
“I-I’ll be good, please- don’t t-touch me- please, I-I’ll do anything Rico says, don’t c-cut me-” he cried, shivering on the man's lap and trying to pull away weakly, bruised shoulders coming up to hide his neck as he ducked his head again, struggling to breathe all over

 

Both of them paused at Stan’s begging, at hearing him mention this ‘Ford’ guy again. “He your newest pimp of something?” the guy holding his legs finally asked, sparing a glance towards his partner, both of them wondering if this was about to become a turf war. I would explain why the bitch still seemed so used at the very least. 

 

“Shit.” the one with the knife cursed under his breath. Turf wars over a fucking prostitute. Though there was no sign that this ‘Ford’ guy would be searching. He turned to look back at Stanley, thinking again before finally bringing the knife down carefully, just letting the tip prick at his right shoulder just enough to draw up a drop of blood. “Well Rico had you first right? This Ford guys infringing on the  _ bosses _ property so if anyone should be upset it should be Rico.” He finally insisted, making up his mind as he reached up to pull sharply as Stanley’s hair, forcing his head back. “This neck of your’s is pretty sensitive isn’t it? I think it’s the best place to mark a claim. Making it nice and viable too, like a collar.” he laughed darkly as he moved the knife down to the side of Stan’s neck,  making a sharp cut down, just deep enough to scar. “So this ‘Ford’ guy can fuck off. You’re Rico’s property now.” He said as he started to cut careful lines against Stan’s skin, aware that one wrong more could kill the guy with this location.

 

Stan panted, blinking weak eyes open as he realized they both paused at hearing him mention Ford again. He furrowed his brows as the one between his legs asked if he was his new pimp and he squirmed uncomfortably before giving a soft little “Yes” in hopes that would deter them. 

Of course it didn’t however and he hissed as the tip of the blade pressed into his shoulder, making him whimper with pain as he tried to shrug back. 

 

He took in a shaking breath and clenched his hands as he was called property, shaking his head a little as he grit his teeth. “H-He didn’t- Ford did, he-” he started only to gasp as his hair was yanked back and he went wide eyed. 

“Ngh- No- No don’t!” he yelled with sudden energy, his body jerking as the man called it a collar. “DONT! That's fords! He- He’ll kill me, please- Don't-!” he cried, sudden panic making his weak body writhe and try and pull away. He let out a sharp scream as the guy cut a mark into his neck and he struggled, thrashing his head to try and get him to stop. “I’m not! I’m NOT! F-Ford- Stanfords going to kill me, dont! Not there!” he screamed, not meaning to drop his full name but it slipped out anyway. “STOP!” he cried, knowing if he just kept moving his neck the guy would either accidentally slit his throat or have to stop. A win win in his book. 

 

“Shit” the one cutting into his skin said as Stanley kept moving, making the last cut of the R a little deeper then it should be. The blood bubbling up a little faster than the other cuts though thankfully nothing life threatening. The guy holding Stan’s legs let out a huff of laughter. “You had to pick the hardest place to make didn't you? Fucking idiot.Think the R will be enough? Anyone in the southwest would know it at least.” He said, trying to help in holding Stanley down before turning his attention fully to their captive.

 

“Stanford hu? Kinda ironic. Hilarious honestly. Two  _ Stan’s _ .” He laughed, shifting his weight to try and use his own upper body to pin Stan’s down but not making much headway. “Sounds like you're terrified of this guy though. Like you need  _ protection. Protection  _ Rico can offer. If you're good that is. Think you would have figured that one out on your own though you seem like a bit of an idiot so guess I shouldn't be surprised.” He murmured as his partner gave up on putting more than the R in and flipped his knife closed.

 

Stan sobbed as he thought about how mad Ford really was going to be. He shouldn’t of left- he had been doing good, he shouldn’t of left him and now...He panted, his mind a mess as he screamed out in pain, with his struggling the leg of the R was too long, making the new mark even uglier than it could've been. 

 

He blinked out tears as the man said Ford’s name and made him whimper, shaking his head a little as he squirmed against him, hating the pressure the man created against his chest. “I’m n-not- I- no...no- I w-want Ford” he sobbed, groaning in pain as he twisted his neck wrong and more blood poured down. “R-rico can go- hngh- D-die” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut with pain at his stinging neck. He felt like he was going in and out of coherency, babbling and screaming things he didn’t mean but the next moment meaning every word. “A-and so can...you two- nghg-!” he whimpered sharply

 

“This guy can't keep his story straight.” The one between his legs laughed as the other one grunted and moved down. 

 

“Don't really care what he can keep straight or not. Now move your ass I want my turn.” He insisted, pushing at his partner's shoulder until he finally moved aside so he could take his place. The other guy holding one of Stan’s legs down so the one now between Stan’s legs could stroke himself to hardness.

 

“God you're an ugly piece of shit.” He grunted as he worked himself over before finally lining up. “Don't even know if I'll be able to get off looking at that mug.” He complained, shoving in hard and without warning. “Damn it.”

 

Stan panted and squirmed weakly, shaking his head a little as he heard the other one wanted a turn. “D-don’t...please, no more-” he begged, head falling back as he tried to kick out his legs weakly as they switched places. He turned his head away as the guy began to stroke himself, not something he wanted to see. He tried to close his free leg in, tried to pull back but the wall of course kept him from getting far. At the man’s words he just groaned and glared weakly, about to say something before being cut off as he thrusted in suddenly.    
  
He let out a hard yell with it, then a sob as his body trembled around the new intrusion. “S-Stop- please, stop” he cried, head spinning as he tried to keep calm. “Get out of me...no more- ah- p-piece of shit- Stop!” he sobbed, arching his back and shifting his hips further away, making the position hard to work with

 

“Damn It-” the guy growled again as their captive moved making his life more difficult, hindering his ability to thrust into him properly. He growled in anger and shifted his own hips, forcing Stanley back against the wall and causing it to crack violently. The guy thrusting into him didn't care much though. It wasn't his problem if their guy got splinters all over his back. Rico could deal with that  _ himself  _ later.

 

“Stop sniveling you piece of shit.” He growled out, raising a hand to slap Stan violently across his face. “You should be thanking me or has this ‘Stanford’ guy been to sweet on you? Go on, let me hear it you two bit whore.  _ Thank me. _ ” 

 

Stan panted before going wide eyed and then screamed out with pain as the wall cracked, splinters pressing into his back and arms. “AAaahha! Stop!” he cried, twisting desperately as the man began thrusting into him. 

 

He squirmed and kicked weakly as he was fucked, the feeling making his stomach twist with disgust as he cried out and writhed. As he was slapped, he let out a hard cry with it, head falling to the side weakly as tears bubbled in his eyes again. He panted and forced his head back, little whimpers escaping him as the man continued to move.

With his words however, he was groaning and sniffling, shaking his head a little before groaning as the man told him to thank him with a hard press of his hips. “F-Fuck you!” he cried, anger bubbling up in him as the man had the gall to tell him to thank him of all things. He grimaced and without thinking, spat blood at the man, his mouth filling with it ever since his lip was split. “Go to hell” 

 

The man grunted angrily as he got blood spat at him and proceeded to slap Stanley again, and when that wasn't enough to sate his anger he punched him, hard, across the face, his hips going still as he took to beating Stanley instead. 

 

“Either fuck him or beat him man make up your mind.” The other guy commented, having stood up to fix his pants and moved off for a smoke. “Look I'm giving you like five minutes okay? Gonna go grab Rico.” He mumbled as he left the room.

 

Out in the distance Ford killed his headlights and looked curiously at the house in the distance. It looked like a place Stanley might hide out but, at the same time, something seemed off. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly but as he looked at the other car parked by the house...it all just felt subtly off. 

 

The tracking device beeped steadily in the seat next to him though and he  _ knew _ Stanley was in there but if he was going to go in he was going to go in prepared.

 

He glanced back at the duffle bag full of ‘toys’ he had brought along and hummed. It was almost the Fourth of July….maybe he should set off a few...fireworks to mark the occasion.

 

He pulled his car around, driving off a safe distance before parking and setting to work.

 

Stan let out a pained sound as he was slapped, then cried out as he was punched, doing his best to duck his head and turn it away, desperate to get away from the man’s punches. His body was so tired, so hurt and exhausted but he kept writhing, kept trying to pull away from the man despite all the pain he was in. He wished he didn't have such a high endurance to these things, wishing he had just passed out by now. 

 

He shook his head with a whimper as he heard the guy would have another five minutes with him and a voice told him just to take it already. Just give in, it always made things better. Either you died or whatever was happening would stop. He panted and looked up at the man, thick tears still sliding down his face. “F-fine, fine I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he whimpered, shifting himself a little to make the position not such a strain but also easier on the man between his legs. He hated himself, he hated himself for giving in but he was so tired. He couldn’t keep this up and he didn’t know how much longer this would go on…

 

He closed his eyes, just trying to breathe as he thought about Ford, thought about the fact he wouldn’t know where he was. He was such an idiot for leaving...he didn’t know how good he had it with Ford compared to Rico…

 

There were four heat signatures in the house total. Two in the front room and two in the back and and he was almost certain he knew  _ exactly  _ which one was his brother and seeing where he was made him  _ livid. _ He was going to  _ kill _ the other three people in that house and then he was going to  _ drag  _ Stanley out and beat him to near death. 

 

Is this what Stanley had been doing this whole time? Selling his body,  _ Fords property,  _ to others for safe passage and protection?! Did Stanley  _ really  _ think these people could protect him!? From  _ Ford!?  _

 

He wrapped a scarf around his lower face before pulling the rifle from his back and taking aim. He could see the two people in the front moving towards the back room as he took aim. It was time to get this party started.

 

The bodyguard fucking into Stan laughed as he apologized and moved to finally make fucking him easier. “That's a good slut. Knew you would come around eventually.” He laughed, starting to fuck him hard and fast, wanting to get off before his five minutes were up. He was just on edge when the door opened behind them and he opened his mouth to make a comment when an explosion shook the house, throwing all of them off balance.

 

“What the fuck was that!?” Rico yelled right before another explosion went off causing bits of ceiling and wall to start to fall. The bodyguard that had been fucking Stan scrambled up and scrambled for his gun as smoke started to fill the room. There was a fire somewhere in the house and he felt a sense of impending doom fill his mind.

 

Stan let out a muffled sob with with man's words and shook his head a little with a gasp as he started to fuck into him, back him whimper and squeeze his eyes shut. Just take it, just take it and he'd be fine. He panted, soft little noises escaping him as he was fucked hard and fast, the wall still scraping his back and shoulders. Maybe if he sucked up to Rico he could get off just a little easier...he squirmed and cried out with a particularly good thrust only for the house to shake.

 

He went wide eyed, looking up at the men in surprise, then let out a cry as the house shook again. As soon as the man was scrambling to get off, he was pulling his legs close to himself and quickly looking to Rico. “u-untie me, Rico, untie me!” He yelled desperately as a bit more of the ceiling came crashing down uncomfortably close.

 

“What are you talking about you-” Rico started, turning to look at Stanley for the first time since leaving him alone with the two bodyguards only for the building to shake once more and the door to the room to fall in, smoke quickly pouring in through the entrance with a glow of fire beyond. There was a sound of electricity and a ‘pop’ sound as what looked like lightning shot through the smoke and door, hitting one of the guards who let out a blood curdling scream before falling to the floor with a gaping hole in his chest. 

 

“Certainly not my favorite toy but it gets the job done.” A voice commented from within the smoke and, in a second, both Rico and the last guard were shooting through the door, trying to hit whoever had spoken. The smoke was building fast though and the fire was easily eating away at the old building which soon left the two of them choking and coughing as they unloaded their clips.

 

Rico swayed heavily as the smoke started to get to him but he listened carefully once they stopped shooting, trying to hear anything that might indicate if whoever attacked them was still alive but there was only silence to greet them. “Let’s get out of here! Grab the slut and let's go!” He growled before coughing again. The last guard standing, the one who had just been fucking Stanley, moved to lean down and cut his ties only to gasp and collapse over Stanley, half of his head missing and steaming from the blast. 

 

“No one but  _ me  _ is allowed to touch him.” The voice growled as he stepped through the door, mostly just a silhouette in the smoke. Rico cursed sharply as he turned tail, cutting his losses, or at least attempting to. Stanford hummed through the scarf around his face and took aim only to not have to do anything as a segment of burning roof collapsed directly on top of the man.

 

He watched for signs of movement but figured that the man was likely already well on his way to dying a slow and painful death of smoke inhalation and burning and instead turned his attention to Stanley who was thankfully still on the floor where the smoke buildup was less. At least that meant Stanley would have a better chance of surviving this. Not that Ford would let him die either way.

 

He knelt down in front of him and shoved the body off of Stanley’s lap. “Hello pet.” he mumbled, reaching for him, “ready to go home?”

 

Stan let out a cry of surprise as the door fell in and smoke came rushing into the room, causing him to cough and gag gently. He squeezed his eyes closed at the sharp light before looking over weakly to see one of the guards drop dead with a hole in his chest. He was too out of it to figure out what was happening, just knowing that his world was crashing down around him while he was tied to a pole and freshly raped. What a way to die. 

 

He tried his hardest to pull his hands free but just tightened the zip tie around his wrists harder, making him whimper. He looked up as he heard the man’s voice, muffled from behind the scarf but he wondered if he was right if he recognized it. A mix of emotion filled him, not knowing if he should be relieved or even more terrified if it was his brother. He groaned and whimpered as he was called a slut and grabbed for a moment only to go wide eyed as he heard a quick zap before very suddenly being covered in blood and brain matter. He let out a horrified cry and ducked his head, tears welling up in his eyes again as his mind reeled. 

 

As the man said no one but him was allowed to touch him, relief did wash through him at the confirmation that this was his brother, tears quickly sliding down his face and he let out a relieved sob, body trembling under the corpse who not a few minutes early had been fucking him. He watched Rico high tail it out of there, not at all surprised he would be willing to let him die after all of his trouble. He went wide eyed as ceiling came crashing down on top of the man and he let out a frustrated sound, wishing he had been the one to kill him. But no. A fucking ceiling did. 

 

As Ford walked over to him, he could barely see through the smoke and his tears but he smiled, a shaky little thing as his brother pushed the body off of him, called him pet and asked if he was ready to go. He let out a hard sob and desperately nodded his head, leaning forward for him as thick tears streaked down his wrecked face. “P-Please- please, Stanford, I’m so sorry” he cried, crying harder than even when he was being raped. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he sobbed over and over, immediately and desperately cuddling close as Ford had to lean over to get to the zip ties. 

 

It wasn't until Stanley leaned forward that Ford realized just why Stanley had stayed where he was. It almost made an odd sense of relief wash over him to see the ties holding Stan down. It meant he wasn't here because he wanted to be. This wasn't his choice.

 

The smoke was getting suffocating though and Ford didn't bother with thinking too hard about his emotions regarding Stan at that moment and simply pulled out his pocket knife to cut off the zip ties. The building was falling apart around them though and there was no way they would be getting out the front: not with what Ford had done to it. So he did the next best thing and pulled Stanley up and back for a moment before aiming his rifle at the wall. Again there was a spark, a sizzle, and a shot of lightning before a hole was cut for them to get out. The greasy air blowing in felt amazing for a moment but it didn't last long as the new exit caused the roof to bend in dangerously.

 

Ford didn't bother to see if Stanley could walk. They didn't have  _ time _ so instead he lifted him up and ran out, glad for the weight Stanley had lost and glad for the kick of adrenaline that being angry gave him.

 

They both collapsed not far from the burning building, thankfully upwind, and Ford pulled off his scarf to take a breath of fresh air before finally,  _ finally _ , focusing on Stanley.

 

“They touched you.” Was the first thing out of his mouth as he moved his hand up to cup Stan’s cheek, tilting his head to observe the damage. “ _ They touched you.”  _ He growled again, the anger from earlier coming back, making his voice rough before he was forced to cough, the smoke still having got to him slightly through the scarf. He leaned away, trying to catch his breath and keep calm, closing his eyes tightly so he wouldn't  _ see _ the damage to Stanley. The damage  _ he hadn't done. _

 

_ “ _ They touched you.” He said again, voice softer but still rough and he sounded like an idiot. Sounded like a broken record. Two things he  _ hated _ and two things he would usually take out on Stanley only-

 

Only Stanley was  _ hurt _ by someone that was not  _ him. _

 

Stan let out a relieved sob as the ties were cut, releasing his aching arms which he immediately wrapped around Ford’s neck as he cried, his entire body trembling. He coughed and gagged through it, feeling more and more light headed by the second. He could barely focus as Ford pulled him close and did something to the wall, a loud sound which had him wincing before finally he was being embraced. He couldn't think of anything better in the world right then, nothing could beat being in Ford’s arms, being rescued. 

 

He shivered at the cold night air, making his injuries throb uncomfortably. He let out a soft groan as they collapsed, the splinters in his back digging in and making him squirm slightly onto his side before giving up.    
He looked weakly up at Ford, tears still streaming heavily and with his words, another sob bubbled out of him, his eyes squeezing closed as he trembled. “I-I’m sorry- I’m sorry” he cried, sounding like a broken record himself. 

 

He panted and coughed again, weak arms falling to his sides as he focused on breathing, his head falling back to show off the ugly R carved into his neck in the dim light of the fire not far away. He continued to cry though, overwhelmed by everything that had happened that day but didn’t stop to think about himself, just thought about Ford and how stupid he was for trying to leave him.    
“I’m sorry, Ford- I’m so sorry...I-I never should've left- You- I-I’m sorry” he cried, curling in on himself as he moved hands up to cover his eyes as he sobbed, then reached for Ford desperately, everything in him craving his comfort

 

Ford finally forced himself to look down at Stan as he laid out on the ground; breath hitching and anger bubbling up suddenly as he saw what looked like an ‘R’ cut into his neck. His  _ neck. _

 

And then Stanley was curling up on his side and sobbing and apologizing and the anger Ford had felt at someone else touching Stan was put to the side as he got confirmation that  _ Stan had left him. _

 

He moved closer to him, laying down next to him on the dirt and curled toward him in return. He moved a hand to his arm and up and up until it was cupping the back of Stan’s neck. There was heat radiating from his skin there. More bruising coming up maybe? Had they  _ choked _ Stan too?!

 

No. No he would address that next. He needed to focus. One problem at a time. 

 

“Do you know what day you left me Stanley? Do you know what day it was? When you ran away?” He asked softly, his fingers moving up to run through Stanley’s tangled hair, threatening violence at a moment's notice.

 

Stan breathed in hard as Ford pressed closer to him, glad for the comfort and warmth he offered and quickly moved closer despite the pain it caused him. He couldn’t seem to stop crying either, so overwhelmed with everything but so glad to have Ford back, to be away from the men Rico pinned on him, glad to be away from Rico and never have to live that life again. 

 

His breath left him weakly as Ford moved a hand to the back of his neck, his head obediently moving back slightly to expose his neck for him, not even thinking about it as he moved. He whimpered as Ford asked him something instead of kissing him like he was expecting, everything in him wanting his kisses and soft touches he always offered after a beating. 

 

He gasped in deeply as Ford moved his hand into his hair, fear flickering through him and he had to force himself to run his brother’s words over in his mind again. He couldn’t comprehend it for a moment before finally he realized it was a question and he shook his head weakly, trying to cuddle closer to him. “I-I d-don’t, I don’t kn-know. I don’t know what today is- It-it's been so long- I don’t know” he repeated over and over, his training telling him he needed to give Ford a solid answer but couldn’t. 

 

Ford hummed at that. Two parts of him warring about what to do. Stanley was so  _ hurt _ and  _ desperate.  _ Exactly like he would get after Ford punished him. It made him want to take care of Stan. Tell him to Stop thinking. That he didn't have to think about anything. All he had to do was listen to Ford.

 

But Stanley had still run away and Ford...Ford hadn't been the one to hurt Stanley.

 

_ They touched him!  _ His mind screamed again and his hand tightened automatically in Stan’s hair, pulling it sharply as Ford let out a shaky breath and surged forward to claim Stan’s lips in an angry kiss.

 

He pulled back after a second, his lips and teeth bloodied with Stan’s own blood from the re-opened cut on his lip and he let out a angry panted breath.

 

“June fifteenth Stanley.” He told him, voice hard, “you left on June fifteenth. Our  _ birthday.  _ I had-I had planned to celebrate it with you!” He said, voice still rough and giving an even angrier tint to his words, “I was going to let you out in the house. I  _ did _ let you out in the house! I was going to make you dinner! I was going to  _ feed you! _ ” He growled, hand still clutching Stan’s hair “I-I got you a gift.” He added and, shit, that part came out too soft. Too heartbroken and he tried for angry again “I got you a gift and when I went up to give it to you you were  _ gone _ Stanley! You left me!  _ On our birthday!” _

 

Stan started to drift off, too tired from everything to try and stay coherent while Ford was quiet. As soon as Ford’s hand was tightening in his hair however, he was letting out a squeal of fear before letting out a pained sob into the kiss as his lip split back open, despite it however he tried to kiss back, pitifully but he tried. 

 

He panted as Ford pulled out and opened weak eyes to look at him only to close them again with a whimper at the anger on Ford’s face. With where he was in headspace, he couldn’t handle seeing him so mad at him, tears bubbling out again and sliding down the side of his face. He winced as he talked, not able to figure out why he was so mad, only to get it as Ford plainly told him it had been their birthday. 

 

He sobbed at that, shivering and trembling as weak hands clutched at Ford’s jacket. As Ford’s hand got tighter, he cried harder and looked up at him desperately. Guilt and pain filled his chest, self loathing hitting him hard. How could he do that to Ford?  _ He didn’t know-  _ It didn’t matter, he never should of left!! He sobbed and reached a shaking hand up to cup Ford’s jaw, then wrapped his arms around him again as he whimpered and sniffed. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again. N-Never, I’m so sorry- Ford I’m sorry- I-I ruin everything- I’ll be good now, I promise” he cried, a babbling mess desperate for forgiveness

 

Ford felt his anger disípate fast as Stanley broke down, the part of his mind that insisted he needed to  _ look after  _ Stan  _ now _ finally taking over. “Hey. Hey. I've got you puppy. Come here.” He finally said, moving his hand from Stanley’s hair to his shoulder and shifting forward until they were flush together. “I know you won't Stanley. I know you learned your lesson. You’ll be so good for me I know you will.” He told him, kissing at his tear streaked and swollen cheeks. “I've got you puppy. I've got you pet. I'll never let anyone touch you again. I'll never let you go again.” He promised, moving to run his lips along Stanley’s skin.

 

“You can rest now Stanley. I'll get us home. You can sleep.” He mumbled. And it was easier to ignore his anger when Stanley was like this. Pressed close so he couldn't see his bruises. Desperate for Ford’s touch. Needing for him to take care of him. It was so  _ easy _ and Ford knew it wouldn't last but for now he let his worry and affection take over and actually let himself  _ care _ for Stan.

 

Stan kept crying hard, now shaking his head as Ford comforted him because now- now he felt like he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Ford’s comfort. Not after running away on their birthday, something that had always been  **so** important to Ford. So he cried and cried, trembling as Ford pulled him closer and held him and told him he would be good. He would. He would be so good after this. He’d never question Ford again, not after Rico, not after tasting what life could be like without Ford in it. 

 

So now he just nodded and sobbed quietly as Ford told him he could sleep, told him they were going to go home. “O-Okay- okay...im sorry...im sorry, ‘m sorry” he mumbled, exhaustion taking over as he realized just how tired he was. He was going to be okay… He’d wake up and be back in the house…”m...mh sorry” he mumbled again before quickly passing out, easy to do now that he’d gotten permission.

 

Ford felt Stan’s body relax and his breathing even out and he simply held him there in the dirt for a few more long minutes before sighing and letting go. He sat up and carefully took off his jacket before wrapping it around Stanley before digging out his car keys with a sigh. He felt tired now too. Exhausted really. The three weeks of tracking Stanley down almost non-stop starting to get to him as he walked the long distance to his car. The house fire still raged on and he wondered how long it would take for someone to call the fire department. Hopefully they hadn't already called. He doubted it given the location but-

 

He shook his head and he climbed into the car and started it up, pulling it around to where he had left Stanley. He couldn't let his mind wander or he would fall asleep. He needed to focus on getting Stanley and getting somewhere safe to rest. 

 

he bent down to pick him up once he managed to get the car as close as he could. He grunted with the effort of it and did his best not to wake him as he placed him carefully into the passenger's seat, tilted back as far as it could go, before getting in the driver's seat himself. 

 

It was a long drive back to San Diego and he pulled into the first motel he could find. He shook Stanley lightly once he had paid and they were parked right outside of their room for the night. “Come on puppy. Can't carry you anymore, I'm sorry.” He mumbled sleepily as he kissed lightly at his swollen lip “need you to wake up. Just long enough to get inside okay?” He said, making sure the jacket was still securely around Stan’s body.

 

Stan slept like a brick, asleep for the entire ride back to San Diego but his body loved it, needed it. As soon as he felt the pained throb from his lip, he was whimpering and slowly opening his eyes, the pain making him think he was still with Rico’s goons but relaxed and smiled as he saw Ford instead. “Mmhh...are we home?” he asked in a tired slur as he wrapped his arms around Ford’s neck, cuddling into him as he weakly got up, then let out a soft cry at the shooting pain that went up his spine from the abuse his ass took. He whimpered and leaned into Ford heavily, brows furrowed as he struggled to keep on his feet. “S-sorry” he whispered, trying his hardest to be good for Ford and walk on his own

 

Ford grunted as Stanley almost collapsed at his side and he quickly wrapped his arms around him to keep him up, using the car as support. “Not yet puppy but we need to sleep and I-I need to take care of you okay? I got us a room.” He told him softly as he half carried Stanley to their door once Stanley got his feet under him enough to move. “Almost there sweetheart.” He mumbled as he fumbled and got the door open before dragging him into the dingy room. The bed wasn't too far thankfully and he was happy to let Stanley collapse on it. He was tempted to just collapse on it himself but…

 

He sighed and pulled the sheets out from under Stan to tuck him and and get him warm before trudging back to the car for his duffle bag. Once in hand he moved back into the room and locked, dead bolted, and slide-locked the door before making sure all the windows were locked and the blinds were down. He dug into his duffle bag and sighed as he pulled out a wrapped gift. He turned it over in his hands a few times before setting it aside and grabbing out handcuffs instead. He had planned on using them earlier when he had thought Stanley would put up a fight but now…

 

Now he just had to make sure Stanley kept his word and didn't  _ leave _ again. 

 

He went back over to the bed and gently pulled one of Stan’s hands out from under the blanket and locked the cuff around it before gently pulling it up and cuffing the other end into the headboard. He cursed as, for the first time, he got to see the damage to Stanley’s shoulders and back and winced at the number of splinters under his skin.

 

They...might be here longer than a day. He sighed before shaking his head and moving to the other side of the bed and getting in. He didn't even hesitate to move over and pull Stanley into his arms, too tired to fight that need as he very rapidly passed out.

 

Stan whined quietly at hearing that but nodded anyway and tried to help get into the room as best he could. Once Ford was letting him, he was collapsing onto the bed and curling up a little, another soft whine leaving him at the aching pain in his body but with the soft blankets and bed wrapping around him, it didn’t seem so bad as he passed out again. 

 

He was in bad shape, his nose was broken, multiple cuts on his face from being hit with the brass knuckles. His cheek was swollen as well as one of his eyes, his lip split badly, probably would even scar if Ford didn’t magic up some science to make it not do so. His neck was bruising, turning a disgusting purple color from how hard the man had choked him out, the deep red R carved into his neck shining bright against the colors. 

His arms were bruised from being behind him for so long, from being twisted and pinned. The tops of his shoulders and back bruised as well from being fucked hard against the wall and probably hundreds of splinters in his skin from how badly the wall was desecrated. His leg was bruised again and over all, he was a bloody mess, all dried and a deep burgundy color against his other wise pale skin, having been inside for the past year. All in all he looked like he should be in the emergency ward of a hospital, but despite that he seemed relaxed to finally be asleep on something comfortable. 

 

As morning came and he slowly woke up, back in his normal head space he grimaced with pain, going to rub at his eyes but quickly realized he was chained to the bed. Panic filled him and he tugged harder, eyes going wide as he looked around and saw a motel around him. “Rico-” he muttered and tried to push himself up only to realize he had someone hugging onto him and quickly looked down, expecting a strange man only to see his brother, which caused him to panic further. Oh god, what was happening? He breathed in hard and closed his eyes as he forced himself to remember everything that had happened yesterday. Thinking back on it all, he had been an embarrassing, shameful mess. He hated when he got so desperate for Ford but even now...even now he felt himself wanting to be with him. It was unheard of for him to be out of headspace and want to be around Ford but...he really had fucked this one up. 

 

So he relaxed and just focused instead on the sudden pain he realized he was in and grimaced, tugging at the handcuffs a little again before giving up and laying back down. “Mnh…”

 

Ford liked to consider himself a light sleeper, and most nights he was, but after everything he managed to sleep heavily and didn't wake until he felt the bed shift under him. He grunted and tried to burry his face into its softness only to realize a little late that it was some _ one _ he was cuddling against. He blinked slowly and groaned before looking up at Stanley with confusion. Why were they-they  _ never _ slept together and if they did it was with Stanley at Ford’s feet so why-

 

His mind finally processed the damage done to Stanley’s face and he groaned again, this time rolling off of him to lay out on the bed next to him. He was...too tired for this if he was honest and if he was going to take care of Stan he needed to  _ not _ be on edge and grumpy.

 

“Stanley.” He started, voice sounding slightly raw and he coughed before trying again “Stanley I am going to be very  _ blunt _ with you. I'm exhausted. I'm frustrated. I'm  _ angry.  _ But I need to take care of you. You are in no condition to take any of my anger right now so. I  _ need you _ to be good for me today. Maybe even tomorrow. Do you understand?” He ordered, looking up at the ceiling and not at Stan. He might do something stupid if he looked at Stan. “It's for your own good puppy. You know it is. Just be  _ good  _ for me and we’ll get you fixed up.”

 

Stan frowned as Ford woke up, immediately expecting his bullshit as he sat up. He turned his head away with a glare and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the look of disapproval he'd have. He squeezed his eyes closed as Ford said his name, already on edge and ready to be angry. He clenched his hands as he listened to Ford before very slowly he actually thought this out before launching into his immediate reactions. He breathed in deep and was quiet for a long time before slowly he turned his head back over, looking resigned but pouty about it. “Fine…” he grumbled. 

 

He didn’t want to be called that stupid nickname, especially while they were just being fucking casual but he held his tongue, reminded himself Ford didn’t seem to understand he wasn’t always his damn dog. He breathed in deep and shifted a little, scooting up the bed further so his arm wasn’t strained. “...my arm hurts being up like this…” he mumbled, then closed his eyes before continuing. “I physically can’t run off...or...even would if I could so could you undo it?” he asked, his voice oddly genuine

 

Ford hesitated before looking up to where Stan’s hand was bound. He didn't like it but...well they needed to move to the bathroom eventually anyway. “Only when you are in my sight.” He insisted. “You’ll be locked down at night and any time I have to leave this room. Besides that...you can be unlocked but you won't leave my sight.” He insisted, reluctantly sitting up and letting the handcuffs scan his fingerprint to unlock them. He took Stanley’s wrist before it could fall and in an uncharacteristic move he began to massage the red and irritated skin.

 

“We’ll start with your back. I'm worried you’ll develop an infection with the number of splinters so I should get those out as cleaned first.” He sighed, letting Stan’s hand drop before standing from the bed and stretching. “Get on your chest, back up. This...might take a while…”

 

Stan rolled his eyes at all of Ford's guidelines. Did he not just hear him say he wouldn't run off even if he could? He sighed and kept himself from getting smart, instead just giving Ford a little “alright” as he undid the cuff. He still found it irritating he used fingerprint handcuffs...well...he sort of did force him to have to invent the damn things. He was good at getting out of the traditional kind. 

He was ready to move to a better position the moment Ford let up but hesitated in mild surprise as he...massaged at his red skin. He watched for a moment before looking up at Ford with an odd expression, one he couldn't really read. He looked back down and pressed his lips together gently, pulling his arm down once Ford let go. 

 

He listened to Ford and frowned at the idea of having splinters taken out one by one but didn't argue, instead just immediately nodded and shifted, getting himself up with a pained groan before laying on his stomach further down the bed. He let out a shaky sigh and held at the sheets, messing with the fabric as he stayed uncharacteristicly quiet as Ford started to work at him. 

 

He grunted and hissed with some of the harder splinters but most of the time just spent his time looking off at the wall or with his eyes closed. He was...well, good. Not once did he try to make things hard on Ford like he usually did, just quietly listening and obeying as Ford told him to move or stretch himself a bit. It let things go much faster than aftercare usually took with him. 

 

Ford stayed silent as he worked. Usually at this point he would be either praising Stanley for being good for him or reminding him that he wouldn't be this hurt if he had just  _ listened _ to Ford.

 

Only this time Ford couldn't find it in himself to say anything. He just pulled his duffle bag close and worked, taking out splinter after splinter and cleaning each new area with alcohol and then placing antibacterial cream over it.

 

“I hate this.” He mumbled once he finished with Stanley’s back, over an hour later. He placed a hand at Stanley’s lower back, a sign that he should stay still as Ford inspected his work. “I hate seeing someone else's work on you. I'm going to mark you now so stay still.” He instated, his hand moving up, fingers trailing between Stan's injuries as he looked for somewhere to bite. 

 

If it hadn't been for the pain of the situation, he probably would of fallen asleep. He was still so exhausted… he hated the sting of the alcohol but the cream quickly soothed it. He furrowed his brows as Ford said he hated it and just barely held back from scoffing. He frowned and crossed his arms, burying his face in them. He glared into the sheets with Ford's words, hands clenching a little as he called it someone else's work. Like it was something more than some assholes beating and raping him.

 

He flinched a little as Ford said he was going to mark him, already tensing as he tries to prepare himself for the familiar sink of teeth into his skin. “mnh…”

 

Ford goes for the top of Stanley’s right shoulder, right where it connected with his arm. His shoulder blades were a mess, having taken the most damage, so it felt appropriate to put a mark right above the worst of the damage. He scraped his teeth along the skin, testing it, before opening his mouth and bitting down hard. He was reminded of the present on the table when he did so and thought about going and getting it but put it off. After. He would give it to Stanley after.

 

He pulled away once he tasted copper of his lips and looked down at  _ his _ work. It wasn't bleeding much, just a few pin-pricks but it made him relax seeing it there. 

 

“I don't want to have you roll over until everything has dried on your back and I didn't bring enough bandaging to cover this large of an area.” He admitted softly. The damage he did to Stanley was usually superficial, bruises and bites being the largest of the damage. He hadn't planned for...this. 

 

Stan shivered and whimpered quietly as be felt Ford pick a spot before gritting his teeth as he felt his lips ghost over his skin, then let out a muffled groan, back arching gently as Ford bit into him. “ngh-!” 

 

He panted as Ford let go before relaxing and hiding his face further as he tried to relax, tried to ignore the pain. He frowned with his words and just shook his head. 

“whatever…” he mumbled softly

 

Ford ground his teeth at that reply before giving into his anger and slapping Stan’s ass. Hard. “What did I tell you about being  _ good _ Stanley.” He hissed, hitting him again with just enough sense to keep from hitting the cuts. “Figure out how to do that Stanley or I'm handcuffing you to this bed and  _ leaving.”  _ He threatened, and it wasn't an idle threat either because if he  _ stayed  _ he would just end up  _ beating  _ Stanley and he would just end up  _ worse. “ _ Do you understand Stanley? I'm trying to  _ help!” _

 

Stan cuddled into his arms, trying to relax only to jolt and let out a soft cry as he was spanked. He grit his teeth and shot a quick glare back at Ford, about to talk but Ford beat him to it and hit him again, letting out another soft cry of mild pain, his body jerking with the hit. He squeezed his eyes closed and whimpered quietly as Ford threatened to handcuff him and leave. With that threat though, panic filled him and a sudden need to keep Ford with him took over. He shakily looked up at him, looking weak but less defiant. “m sorry...msorry, I know you're just trying to help” he mumbled quietly and then curled up again but didn't feel satisfied with that and after a long moment, hesitantly uncurled.  

 

He pushed himself up, avoiding eye contact as he slowly pulled himself over to Ford before quickly cuddling into his lap and hiding his face against his stomach. “msorry”

 

Ford was about to yell at Stan for moving when he had told him to let things dry but sighed and let his anger putter out as Stan just moved to curl up in his lap. He lightly moved a hand to the top of Stanley's hair, lightly running his fingers through it and getting out the tangles. “I know you are puppy. I just wish you wouldn't try to fight me so much on this.” He sighed, looking down though he was really only able to see the busted up side of Stanley’s face. He moved his hair slightly and his breath caught in his throats as it exposed the bruising on Stanley’s neck. Right. Right.

 

His fingers lightly brushed over the purpling skin and he just held back from pressing into it as he looked it over. There were no fingerprints which was good but… “did they choke you puppy? Did you let them?” He asked softly, remembering vaguely from the night before that they had done something else to his neck. A...mark? 

 

Stan winced as he felt Ford’s hand on his head but slowly relaxed as all he did was pet him. He just nuzzled closer with his words, no anger bubbling up this time as he let himself relax further into Ford’s touches. 

  
That was until he felt his fingers brush over his neck and he winced hard, trying to cuddle and hide into Ford closer with a soft sound. He didn’t want him to press at his neck, it still hurt...he didn't want to do anything but sleep. He frowned with his words, mind feeling a little foggy as he teetered on the edge of going into head space. He shook his head a little and shifted, laying the least busted side of his face on Ford’s thigh as he looked off at the wall, looking uncomfortable and a little upset.    
“...no...no they...I wouldn’t stop fighting them...I punched one and broke another’s nose and they...they choked me out because I wouldn’t stop...they tied me up after...” he mumbled, voice a little wavy as his mind tried to figure out if he needed to go into his space or not.    
He didn’t want to...he just wanted to be normal after everything that happened...though it did leave him  _ thinking  _ about it which just caused the ache in his chest to hurt more.    
He managed a little smile and cuddled Ford’s thigh a bit more. “Got em good too…” he mumbled before closing his eyes, hating the teetering edge he was on

 

Ford tried not to react too much as Stanley talked and even managed a small smile as he said he got them good. He moved his hand back up to Stan’s hair and tugged it lightly, nothing painful, simply to get his attention. “Come here.” He ordered, but his voice was back to being caring and soft like it usually was when he was patching Stanley up. “I want to kiss you. Come here puppy.” He said again, carefully helping him sit up and lightly maneuvering him into his lap, trying to keep from touching his back. He kissed at Stan’s lips as soon as he could, his tongue peeking out to run along Stan’s busted lip before moving to press kisses and trail his lips along the other cuts on Stanley’s face. “Those were the two I killed right? The ones that touched you?” He murmured against his skin “or are there others I need to kill too? I will Stanley. I'll murder them all for daring to touch you.” He promised, continuing to pepper him with slow kisses.

 

Stan winced despite the hair tugging not being painful and quickly looked up at Ford, worried he had done something wrong for a moment. He then hesitantly moved up with the help of his brother as he was told to sit up. He felt himself relax as he was called puppy and slowly felt himself teetering further into head space. He kissed Ford back gently, wincing a little as it stressed his barely closed lip but calmed as Ford went on to just pepper kisses against him. A small noise left him as he felt Ford’s tongue, then blinked open heavy eyes. Who? Killed...oh...right he was talking about last night...He nodded a little, breathing in deep before he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at Ford’s words, pulling him right back out of head space. 

 

“They were the ones who raped me last night, but you’ll need a damn book for how many guys Rico sold me to before you...got me” he said, trying to be careful about the way he phrased it. He let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes, not moving away from Ford’s kisses despite not being relaxed anymore. It was sort of nice...in an annoying way. He swallowed and shifted a little in Ford’s lap, hands moving to his brother’s chest, idly messing with his shirt as he contemplated telling him...he shouldn’t but…   
  
“...When...we shower later...one of them…” he hesitated, looking uncomfortable before forcing himself to talk. “One of them came in me...I couldn’t do anything about it- I promise- god I would of killed them myself if I had the chance- I swear, but I couldn’t stop him. I wouldn’t have let him-” he said slowly, then quickly tried to save his ass, knowing where Ford’s mind went any time there was even a hint of betrayal on his part.   
  
He looked up at him, looking nervous but vulnerable as his hands clenched in his shirts fabric a bit.

 

Ford hummed at that. He knew Stanley had been a prostitute before Ford had finally gotten his hands back on him. He actually hadn't been surprised by the fact either. Stan was good at very very few things but the thing he was best at was sex. So no, Him becoming a prostitute hadn't been surprising.

 

It didn't mean Ford didn't want to kill each and every person that had touched Stan. He  _ almost  _ felt happy that he had gotten to kill these three.

 

The happiness quickly slipped away though as Stanley talked and his hands clutched painfully at Stanley’s sides, a low growl ripping from his lips as he tried to calm down. He looked down at Stanley as he pulled back and relaxed slightly at the look on his face. No. No this was-stanley telling him was a  _ good  _ thing. It was  _ progress _ . It meant Stanley wasn't hiding things from him.

 

No. This-this wasn't anger at  _ Stanley _ , it was anger at the man who  _ touched _ him. Who  _ came inside of him.  _ And that man was  _ dead.  _ He just...needed to remember that Stanley hadn't wanted this. He…

 

He hadn't wanted this…

 

Right?

 

He slowly let the breath he was holding out through his nose and tried to get his hands to loosen on Stanley’s side. He managed with one hand, bringing it up to cup Stanley’s jaw so he couldn't look away. “I...I believe you puppy. I do. You're being so good telling me and I promise we’ll get you cleaned up. There won't be a single piece of those men left on you when we're done.” He swore. He wasn't able to do much about the injuries, those would have to go down on their own, but he could get Stanley  _ clean _ . 

 

Stan took in a shaking breath, not knowing what reaction he'd get but wasn't surprised when it was pain. He let out a muffled groan and squeezed his eyes closed, whimpering as his hands clutched at Ford's shirt, tugging a little.

 

He shouldn't of told him, he shouldn't have, why did he?? What did he think would happen, of course Ford was going to be mad at him! He probably didn't believe him anyway-

 

He froze up and slowly looked up at Ford as he felt him cup his jaw, his breathing shaky as he tried to prepare himself for further pain. So when he instead got  _ praise _ , he was perking up in surprise, almost smiling. He hesitantly nodded, his hands smoothing over Ford's shirt. “th-thank you…” he breathed, still surprised at Ford's reaction. He felt so...happy to get him reassuring him instead of hurting him. 

 

He didn't know what he was doing as he slowly leaned in and gave Ford a barely there peck on the lips before getting shy and hiding against his neck, cuddling closer as he tried to get small.

 

Ford felt his heart stutter at the way Stanley perked up at being praised and then he felt it  _ skip _ as he was kissed.

 

It wasn't much of a kiss but...it had been so  _ long _ since Stanley had initiated a kiss himself. It left Ford wide eyed and tense and feeling like his mind had short circuited. 

He-

 

He didn't know how to  _ respond _ to this.

 

He came back to his mind with Stanley cuddling against him and he wrapped his arms around him in a hug before remembering the injuries on his back and quickly loosening his hold. “Sorry.” He mumbled lightly, also unable to remember the last time  _ he _ said that to Stanley but now that it was out he could feel it dripping from his lips, over and over as he hid his own face against Stanley’s own neck, unable to stop the litany from falling from his lips. 

 

Stan was a little nervous again, not sure if he was allowed to kiss him, his mind reeling as he over thought everything. He tensed as he felt arms move around him in a hug, relief about to wash over him only for pain to replace it. He let out a muffled whimper, back arching against Ford to try and get away from the pressure only for Ford to do it himself. 

 

He relaxed only to go wide eyed as he heard Ford  _ apologize.  _ He never apologized...for anything. No matter how badly he hurt him. He breathed in deep, not sure what to do as Ford suddenly couldn't  _ stop _ saying sorry. He didn't know what to do, nothing in his conditioning had prepared him for this so he just shakily rubbed a hand against Ford's back gently. “...thank you” he mumbled, then smiled shakily, hidden however against Ford.

 

He then slowly leaned back, actually having the courage to push Ford away enough for him to be able to lean in and kiss him again, hesitant but more of a kiss than before. He tried to keep it gentle, not wanting his lip to bust open again.

 

Ford almost tightened his grip to keep Stan from moving away only to gasp as Stan kissed him  _ again.  _ He easily returned it, a little too hard before remembering Stanley’s busted lip. He shivered at the thought of re-opening it but  _ no _ . He hadn't been the one to give it to Stanley and he didn't want to to scar.

 

He didn't want any of it to scar.

 

His mind supplied him suddenly with an image from the night before, a bleeding R on Stan’s neck. A  _ mark _ . A  _ claim. _ And Ford ended up growling lightly into the kiss before gently pushing Stanley back.

 

“Your neck. Stanley I want to see it.” He said, already knowing what he would find but hoping that it wasn't as bad as it had seemed last night.

 

Stan whimpered as his lip ached, immediately regretting his choice to kiss Ford but slowly relaxed as he did as well. He moved his hands up to Ford's shoulders, nervous as hell as they kissed, scared things would go wrong any moment. 

 

As soon as Ford was growling, he was pulling back quickly and squeezing his eyes closed, expecting pain all over again. As Ford talked, he frowned and glanced up at him before slowly letting his breath out. 

 

He hesitantly reached up and gathered his blood matted hair to the opposite side and tilted his head a little, whimpering as it stretched the wound. 

 

It probably looked worse than it did last night, already signs of infection, the deep red color of it cutting into the purple and yellow bruising around it. The dried blood he was covered in not at all helping the look. He held still, breathing deep as he waited for Ford to inevitably press against it. 

 

Ford hissed as he saw the mark, it was angry and red and would very obviously leave a scar. A scar in the shape of a R. A scar the  _ marked Stanley as someone else's. _

 

He closed his eyes tight and breathed in through his nose, trying to stay calm but it wasn't working. Not with this.  _ Not with this. _

 

He shoved Stanley off his lap, present enough to shove him to the side so he stayed on the bed rather than onto the floor and stood abruptly. He started to pace then. Angry stomping as he clutched at his and tugged at it, eyes closed tight as he tried to keep from lashing out because he knew Stanley would get the brunt of it.

 

_ But the mark! _

 

“Say you're mine.” He finally demanded, turning to Stanley abruptly, his face painted in pure anger as he moved back over to the bed “ _ say you're mine Stanley. Say you belong to me!” _ He demanded, voice raising, dripping with hatred as he spoke.

 

Stan breathed in deep as he tried not to tremble as Ford just looked at it for a moment, making him nervous for what he'd do. He wasn't really surprised when he was pushed off, his body aching with it and making him let out a muffled groan. He curled up on his side, moving a hand to cover the mark without touching it as he looked up at Ford, scared and nervous as he started pacing. 

 

He was going to beat him wasn't He? Beat him for being a victim to someone else. He'd get beat for having something forced on him. He clenched his hands and squeezed his eyes closed before jumping in surprise as Ford turned to him all of a sudden. 

 

He quickly got a look of fear on his face and tried to back up the bed a bit, heart pounding in his chest. 

“i-im yours” he breathed immediately, terrified by the look of anger on Ford's face. He let out a scared noise as Ford advanced on him and quickly said the rest in a scared rush. 

“I'm yours, I'm yours, I belong to you! Not rico- never Rico, just you. I only want to belong to you” he said, voice shaking as he tried to calm Ford. 

“I told them it was yours- my neck, I told them and they just laughed, I'm sorry, I tried, but I'm yours” he added quickly, leaving out exactly what the men said, knowing it'd just piss Ford off further.

 

The speed in which Stanley agreed helped. It  _ helped _ but he still hated the thought that Stanley had someone else's mark on his skin. Someone else's mark that would  _ scar. _

 

“Bathroom.” He finally ordered, voice far harder than it had been this whole time. “We're cleaning you up. We’re cleaning  _ that _ up and we're covering it up.  _ Immediately.”  _ He hissed he wasn't stupid enough to cover it without taking care of it first and maybe if he didn't let it become  _ worse _ it wouldn't scar.

 

Who was he kidding, it would scar and he would be forced to  _ know _ it was there.  _ Know that Stanley was marked. _

 

He was pacing again, absent mindedly thinking now. Thinking of how to get rid of it. He could-he could invent something. Something that would heal without scarring. He could  _ burn it off.  _ He could-

 

But no. No! That would all take too long and it would be there! It would still be there! That R. That damned-

 

Oh.

 

He stopped moving.

 

_ Oh. _

 

He could change it. No.  _ Finish it.  _

 

He could make it say  _ his name  _ because that's what it  _ should _ say. That was the  _ only thing _ it should ever say. 

 

“Get undressed and get the water running.” He said voice sounding calmer now. Now that he knew exactly what to do. “I'll join you in a moment. Start washing yourself down.”

 

Stan winced at how hard Ford's voice was, flinching back but quickly nodded as he said they were going to clean him up. When Ford continued to pace though, he was hesitant on whether or not he should go now or wait for further direction. 

 

Then Ford was stopping suddenly and he tensed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't know what just happened in Ford's head but the sudden relaxation he went through scared him. Just what was he thinking…? 

 

He swallowed as Ford talked to him again, told him to go ahead and he nodded stiffly, not about to try and argue with him. Maybe he wouldn't try to initiate sex this time around if he got lucky…

He got up on shaky legs and slowly made his way to the bathroom, soft whimpers escaping him as jolts of pain hit him. All he had to take off was Ford's jacket which he set down before making easy work of the shower.

 

He struggled to get in, but once he was he was nearly letting out a moan of relief as the warmth washed over him. He leaned heavily against the wall, breathing deep as he watched all of the blood pour off of him and down the drain

 

Ford went to his duffle bag and dug around until he managed to find his knife. He flicked it open before dipping it in his bottle of ethanol and lighting it on fire. It didn't burn long, just a quick blue flame that traveled up the blade before fizzling out. He turned it over a few times before nodding to himself and going to the bathroom. He smiled as he heard the noises Stanley was making and placed the knife down carefully to the side before starting to undress. “Did they provide Shampoo and soap puppy? Or do i need to grab my own.” He asked as he folded his sweater and shirt and placed them on the toilet. 

 

“Actually don't answer that. I'll grab mine. I want you to smell like  _ home _ . Not like some dingy hotel.” He insisted. Mostly he wanted Stanley to smell like  _ him _ . But for Stanley, home and  _ him _ should be one and the same. He moved back out of the room for a few extra supplies then before shrugging and deciding to just bring the whole bag. He hesitated as he saw the gift and thought for a moment before shaking his head and going back into the bathroom. Later. That was for  _ later. _

 

He smiled as he put his bag down and grabbed out the soap and shampoo before placing them at the edge of the tub and finishing getting undressed. He moved into the shower then,  _ finally,  _ and sighed as he saw Stanley. He moved up to him with a smile and placed a hand on his hip, drawing him close.

 

“Love how you look in here.” He mumbled, kissing him lightly. He always loved seeing Stanley soaking wet, hair falling around him, and looking so vulnerable. Just  _ waiting  _ for Ford to take care of him. To clean him. It helped him relax a little more as he started to run his hands along Stanley’s slick skin.

 

Stan just let out a soft “hmm?” as he was asked something but couldn't bother to try and focus on Ford's words as he was just told nevermind anyway. “mkay…” he mumbled, shifting a little before slowly looking over as Ford went about doing stuff outside of the shower. 

 

He couldn't focus, too blissed out from the wonderfully hot water. He whined quietly as Ford pulled him over but instead leaned his weight into him, cuddling into his neck as he wrapped weak arms around his middle. 

 

He winced at some places Ford's hands ran over but for the most part he was relaxed, just enjoying the warmth of the water and the innocent comfort Ford was offering. “mh...i like this” he mumbled quietly

 

“That so puppy?” He laughed lightly, kissing at the top of his head before pushing him back just a little. “Come on. Let's get you properly cleaned up okay? I'm going to take care of you.”  He promised, reaching down beside him for his shampoo and getting a handful into his hands. “You don't have to do anything Stanley. You don't even have to think.” He promised, moving his hand to Stanley's hair and gently massaging it in. “I've got you puppy. I've got you.”

 

Stan nodded in agreement, then whined pitifully as he was pushed back, already quickly delving into headspace, the hot water and nickname lulling him. He nodded a little, barely able to keep his eyes open as Ford said he didn't need to think. That was nice...he didn't want to think...he didn't want to remember the day before. 

 

He could just let Ford take care of him...he nodded and opened his eyes a bit, looking up at Ford with a small smile before leaning into his hands as he began to wash his hair, eyes slipping shut again. 

 

Ford smiled as Stan relaxed fully under his fingers. Good. That was good. It would make the next few parts of this easier. He finished washing Stan’s hair and lightly moved him under the flow of water, letting it rinse off the suds before moving him back out. “This next part might hurt Stanley because of the cuts. But I need to wash your skin.” He told him, grabbing the soap this time and rolling it around his hands. “Don't think about it okay. It doesn't matter. It will go away quickly and it will feel so much better once your skin's clean.” He promised him. He started at Stanley's stomach and chest which were mostly untouched and pulled him into a ‘hug’ to get his back. He would have to reapply the antibiotic cream but he didn't mind. He would need to apply it to Stanley’s neck soon enough anyway.

 

“You’re doing so good puppy.” He praised as he kissed Stanley’s swollen cheek and turned his head to the side, exposing the mark again. “So good.” He mumbled as he carefully cleaned the area around the cut, letting water run over it and lightly, very very carefully he started prodding the mark, trying to get the old scabs off so it could properly heal. “That's It puppy. Almost done.” He promised as he mentally started to plan each mark he would put into Stanley’s neck

 

Stan hummed a little as his hair was washed, something he genuinely enjoyed even out of head space. It felt nice to have Ford massage at his scalp. He squeezed his eyes closed as water washed over him, then relaxed and barely heard what Ford was saying. 

 

“mnh...mhm…” he mumbled, happy to wrap his arms around Ford as he was hugged. That was before the soap suddenly started stinging his cuts and he let out a sharp whimper of pain. 

 

As he was praised though, he was slowly relaxing and nodding again, head moving easily as Ford started cleaning the area around the R. He whimpered as he started to prod at it though, wincing and as skin pulled, he was letting out a soft sob as he tried to pull away. “h-hurts, s-stop-” he whimpered quietly, his hands gripping at Ford's back as he weakly tried to pull away.

 

“Okay. Okay puppy.” Ford said softly, not wanting to pull Stanley out of wherever it was his mind went when he was like this. He needed Stan to stay calm and compliant long enough to fix his neck. The area he needed to cut was clean enough now anyway so he might as well get started. He lightly walked Stanley back into the warm spray of the shower and softly kissed him again before pulling away. “Stay right there and rinse off puppy.” He told him as he moved away and reached out of the shower for his knife. “That it baby. You’re doing great.” He continued praising as he moved back forward and pulled Stanley out of the spray. “There are a couple more things I need to do now okay Stanley? I promise it will be over soon. Just tilt your head slightly- there we go.” He praised, using his free hand to lightly guide Stan's head over and hold his steady. “Don't move okay puppy? It's very important you keep still.” He told him “close your eyes.” He added, right before he brought the knife down. He did the F fast. Just three quick swipes that likely felt like nothing as they first went in. No. The F wasn't the problem.

 

It was the  _ O _ . 

 

Stan relaxed as Ford actually stopped and let out a slow sigh as he reached up to touch his neck gently, beading blood from the opened wound immediately being washed away. He squirmed a little as the water hit him directly but slowly relaxed again, nodding with Ford's words. 

 

He smiled as he was told he was doing well and opened his eyes to give him an almost loving look before closing them again. “mhm…” he mumbled as he tilted his head for him. He looked at him in confusion as he was told he needed to keep still but only slightly hesitated before closing his eyes with a soft noise. “okay…” he mumbled, then whimpered as he felt something press against him. He really couldn't tell what it was at first or what Ford did with it, but as it quickly started to sting and Ford kept at it, he went wide eyed as pain shot through him.

 

He almost got a headache with his quickly he reeled back, a pained yelp escaping him and he hit the back wall, broken from his haze as he saw Ford standing there with a knife. He moved a hand up to his own neck, wincing as he pressed too hard. 

“w-what are you doing???” He asked quickly,  realization setting in soon after. 

 

“you- did you just cut me? Are you- are you adding to it???” He accused In disbelief, tears springing to his eyes. “what the fuck, ford!” He gasped, trying to back up into the shower further as his heart pounded away with fear 

 

Ford cursed and pulled the knife away as soon as Stanley flinched, not wanting to accidentally  _ kill _ the other man. He let Stanley fall against the back wall before advancing, keeping the knife wide so he wouldn't cut him unintentionally. “What did you expect me to do?” He asked, giving Stanley an unimpressed look. “Either I  _ cut it out of your skin _ or I  _ add to it _ . I figured the first option would be the least painful. You should be  _ thanking me _ .” He insisted, his eyes moving to look at where the F was slowly bleeding out and half an O stood out on his skin. 

 

“It's almost done either way. And it will  _ get done _ whether you like It or not so make this  _ easier _ on yourself puppy and  _ keep still.”  _ He demanded, reaching out to grab his hair again, tugging it. “You're  _ mine _ remember? Not  _ his. _ I won't let you be  _ his.”  _

 

Stan felt tears pricking at his eyes, his body shivering as his hand clenched tightly as Ford came over. As Ford said he should be thanking him, he was flashing back to the night before, to the man who had said the same thing and he let out a shaky sob, curling in on himself a bit. He breathed in deep before clenching his hands. “you're a scientist, you do near science fiction shit and you can't heal a simple scar?” He groaned before letting out a muffled cry as his hair was grabbed and his hands went to push weakly at Ford's chest, tears streaking down his face but hard to see in the spray of water. 

 

“he said the same thing. That I should be thankful” he breathed, voice trembling as he tried to stay strong. 

 

“You don't think I didn't consider that?” Ford growled annoyed, “you don't think I didn't consider that option?! Of course I did but it would take too  _ long _ . I would have to see that  _ mark _ every day until I managed to invent something.” He insisted before shaking his head angrily and refocusing. 

 

“That doesn't matter anyway. You don't get a  _ choice _ in this Stanley. You don't get a  _ say _ .” He said, pulling on Stanley’s hair again “so you either shut up and let me do this in the  _ least _ painful way available or you force me to  _ hurt you _ until you  _ stay still.”  _ He threatened. He didn't care what the other men had said. He  _ didn't.  _ It didn't matter and it wasn't going to change his mind.

 

Stan groaned with frustration and struggled a little harder as Ford said it would take too long. So he'd rather make the injury worse?? A voice told him though that if Ford had to see it everyday, he'd be angry every time. He then groaned and cried out softly as his hair was tugged again.

 

He squeezed his eyes closed as the fresh wounds stretched and bled harder. With Ford's words he was letting out another frustrated sob before finally nodding and looking at him weakly. “okay...okay, okay” he sobbed. “j-just- quick, please” he whimpered quietly, his hands going from pushing at Ford to instead trembling and trying to wrap around him. “I'm sorry- please, I'll be good, don't hurt me” he whined

 

Ford relaxed slightly as Stanley stopped struggling and held him instead. He nodded and let his hold on his hair lessen as he brought the knife back up. “This will hurt but it's better like this. It  _ is.”  _ Ford insisted as he brought the knife back down to finish carving the O; just deep enough to scar. He skipped over the angry looking R and to the other side, a dangerous spot to be marking with how close it was to Stan’s trachea so Ford was a little more careful here, taking a little more time to make sure he didn't go too deep, trying to sooth Stanley the whole time with hushed whispers of praise, before finally finishing and pulling the knife back to admire his work.

 

“There. There. That's it Stanley. We're all done.” He said softly, moving him forward this time into the spray of water the clean the new cuts a little more. “I sterilized the knife so these won't get infected. They won't hurt as much as the other one. They’ll just scar up nice and pretty.” He promised, unable to take his eyes off of his name cut into Stanley’s skin. It was...he wasn't sure. It was  _ something.  _ He thought he would be happier about it. Something so permanent in Stanley’s skin. Something that didn't need to be re-done every week, but…

 

He had never felt the appeal of making Stanley bleed like this. It almost felt impersonal. Surgical. And his feelings for Stanley were anything but. 

 

He sighed and pulled Stanley flush against him and kissed at the new marks. Trying to make them his own. Trying to fill them with emotion that a knife could never convey. A  _ want _ and a  _ need _ that he could only put into Stanley with lips and  _ teeth.  _ He trailed his lips over each mark, that thought filling his mind before finally pulling back at looking at the mark again. It was better. If only slightly. But it was better.

 

“Come on puppy. One last place to clean right?” He said softly and he moved his free hand down to Stan’s ass. The water was getting cold now so they needed to finish up and get out and then…

 

That Ford would give Stanley his gift. He deserved it after this. 

 

Stan was a shaking, trembling mess as Ford told him it's hurt but it was worth it. He couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of the knife slicing into his skin and he just barely held off from going into a panic attack, his mind reeling from everything and it was just too much to take in as he felt the knife press and slide. It hurt. It hurt so much and he couldn't even hear Ford's praise. 

 

He barely processed it as he was moved and Ford talked, couldn't focus on anything but the pain and his memories. It was a miracle he was even standing. So as Ford pulled him over, his body gave in and collapsed against him. His mind was gone, just a trembling, shaking thing that could barely breath. He couldn't hear Ford no matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was the pounding water and his own pulse in his neck. He could hear himself bleeding and felt Ford's body against him, pressing and touching, kissing and licking despite his revulsion, despite not wanting any of it. It was all too much like the creatures in his nightmares.

 

Ford expected an answer, some kind of response, but there was nothing. Stan was a heavy weight against him and Ford could feel worry start to bubble up. Had-had he cut too deep? Had Stanley lost too much blood? He let the knife fall to the tub without a care so he could get a better grip on Stanley before lightly pushing him back, just enough to look at the mark again. It was still bubbling up blood but not anything that would be life threatening so why…?

 

“Stanley? Puppy come on? Can you say something for me?” He prompted, feeling Stanley shake in his hold and, okay. Okay. The shower was done. He needed to get him to sit down.

 

He didn't bother turning off the shower. He didn't think Stanley could stand on his own, and instead just threw open the curtain and pushed his duffle bag to the floor so he could get Stanley to sit down on the toilet. “Okay. Okay. Puppy I'm going to dry you off now okay?” He tried, feeling something dark bubbling up in his throat, making it hard to talk. “Just sit there okay. You don't have to do anything but listen to me. I'm going to fix this.” He mumbled. Standing once he knew Stanley wasn't going to fall over and turned off the shower before going to grab a towel.

 

He started to pat him down, legs first and moving up as he avoided looking into Stanley’s eyes. Stanley's eyes which usually, no  _ always,  _ held so much emotion and now-

 

Now they just looked  _ dead. _

 

Stan felt numb, numb to everything but the pain and the feeling of hands touching him. Always touching him. He was always being touched, kissed,  _ fucked _ . Always. He couldn't keep his eyes open, just blinking hazily as he existed. Just existed to be touched. He couldn't move, all he felt was darkness as his body worked on its own. He kept trembling, kept shaking as he curled in on himself, needing the comfort and press of anything, something. He wanted to...he wanted...he wanted something. He couldn't remember… he thought someone was talking but he wasn't sure…

 

He was being touched again, this time the texture felt weird, felt off. It wasn't hands but he still didn't like it. But his body didn't move, just stayed still like the good hole he was. That's all he was...he didn't know it but he was crying, tears sliding down down his cheeks but he didn't sob with it, barely even made a noise as he sat and trembled.

 

Ford fell silent once it was obvious Stanley wouldn't reply. He didn't know what to  _ say _ to get Stanley to do something. He thought about hitting him but he had a feeling that wouldn't work either.

 

He patted the side of Stanley’s neck dry, though the blood from the cuts still just bubbled up, and he moved on to Stan’s face, noticing for the first time that Stanley was crying. He pause in shock. He loved seeing Stanley cry. Loved seeing his eyes shining and breath hitching and his cheeks flushing but this-this wasn't that. It was like Stanley’s body didn't even know it was crying and the tears were just pouring out. They just made Stan’s eyes look Foggy and distant now. Not shining and beautiful.

 

Ford turned away and went back into his bag, digging out the antibiotic cream and squeezing it onto his finger. He started with the old cuts on Stan’s face, smearing the cream on each one, before moving to his neck. He was careful, so careful as the dabbed the cuts rather than spreading the cream over them before turning back to his bag for gauze and tape. It took three pieces to cover the whole area and the blood started to pinprick through pretty quickly but it would hold.

 

“Puppy? You with me yet?” He tried before sighing and helping Stanley to his feet. It was almost like moving a doll and Ford didn't like it. “Come on. Bed.” He ordered but there was no bite to it. Maybe...maybe if he let Stanley rest he might start responding again.

 

At least he hoped he would.

 

Stan slowly closed his eyes as he continued to exist, weighed down by everything but floating at the same time. It felt weird but he couldn’t put any thought into it. All he knew was that everything hurt and nothing hurt. He was somewhat aware as he was moved but it wasn’t enough to knock him out of his stupor, too far deep into it, having started from even the day before. Life was too much and he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

 

The next thing he was aware of was a ceiling. He slowly opened his eyes, still feeling numb but a little more...current. More in the moment. He slowly breathed in deep, slowly closed and opened his weak hands. He stayed like that for a long time, just slowly getting feeling back in his body before finally he found enough effort in himself to glance and move his head slightly to see where he was. A motel...and...Ford was there, awake with his back to him. He wondered briefly what he was doing but just closed his eyes again, too tired to move more than that. He did make enough of a noise to note that he was awake however. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had been in the shower, it could've been days or minutes, he didn’t really know or care. All he knew was he felt heavy. He felt cold… He clenched his hand again, eyes half lidded as he laid there trying to come back to himself. 

 

It was late that night when Stanford finally heard something stirring from the bed. He had laid Stanley out after the shower and tried to coax him into responsiveness with touches and kisses and petting but nothing had worked. Stanley had simply laid there like a coma patient, completely unresponsive to anything. It had scared Ford.

 

A  _ lot. _

 

He realized after the first hour that he couldn't be there. Couldn't watch Stanley like this and he had left the room only to come back moments later realizing he couldn't  _ leave _ either. Instead he had paced for a long while and then sat down at the decrepit desk to work on  _ anything  _ but Stanley.

 

He was thankful for how easy it was to get lost in his work. 

 

He was still aware enough of Stanley though to

Notice the noise and to check his watch. 3am. Almost 15 hours. What had  _ happened? _

 

“Stanley?” He asked softly, standing up from his chair and moving over to the bed. He looked down at him, honest concern written across his face “you back with me puppy?” He mumbled, reaching down to pet his hair.

 

Stan blinked slowly as he heard Ford get up and weakly looked over at him, his movements still slow. He looked at him for a moment before looking away with a sigh, a little more life back in his eyes. He shifted a little, grimacing quietly as his body ached. He slowly forced himself up through the pain, barely having the motivation to do so though. He moved a hand up and rubbed at an eye with the heel of it before glancing at Ford’s arm, then slowly back up at him with a small frown. He shrugged as his eyes dropped again. “I guess” he mumbled quietly, not sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure what had happened. Last he knew Ford was...Ford was doing something to his neck. He moved his hand to cup his own neck gently, brows furrowing in the first emotion he’d shown since the shower. He slowly moved a thumb over the gently scabbed letters before furrowing his brows further and dropped his hand, now a fist as he closed his eyes again. 

 

“Well at least you’re talking.” He mumbled, watching as Stanley’s hand moving up to run along the cuts on his neck. Ford frowned as he watched his fingers move over each letter. The new ones were red and scabbed but not half as bad as the angry looking R in the middle. “I changed the bandage a few times then decided to let them breath.” He told him softly. “I can cover them back up if you want.” He offered honestly. Half hopping Stanley would take it. It wasn't that he  _ hated _ the words. More he felt indifferent to them which was certainly better than the searing anger he had felt when it had only been an R. Then it had felt like someone else had tried to take what was  _ his. _

 

Now it just felt like a boring mark on Stanley’s skin with little meaning.

 

“You’ve been out of it for the last sixteen hours. Would you like to eat?” He offered, wondering when Stanley had eaten last. Ford certainly hadn't had something in nearly two days. “We could probably find a 24 hour diner close by.” He said and he wasn't too sure why. No. Scratch that. He knew exactly why. Stanley had  _ scared _ him and this was his way of making up for it. Of taking care of Stanley while he could until his anger inevitably got the better of him again and he took it out on Stanley. Rince and repeat. As always.

 

Stan didn’t say anything to that, not sure if he could say anything to it. He then glanced up at him as he said he had changed the bandages a few times, then to his slight surprise offered to let him cover it back up. He tried not to be quick to nod, but it happened anyway and he glanced down, a little worried Ford would be mad he hated it. And here he thought the necklaces hed give him were bad… 

 

His eyes slowly blinked closed before Ford spoke up and offered food, at first about to react to being out for so long but at the mention of food, he realized just how painfully hungry he was. He was quick to look up at him, genuine and near desperate need showed on his face as he nodded. “Please- god I’m hungry-please” he breathed, his hand moving to touch his stomach which growled angrily now that he was paying attention to it. Then he glanced around, hesitating a little when he realized he had no clothes. He swallowed and glanced back up at Ford, a bitter voice in his head half expecting Ford to want him to go naked. 

 

Ford almost laughed at how eager Stanley was to cover the mark and he thought, if it had been a  _ proper  _ one that he would be upset about it but this instance was easy to let slide. “I have some pajamas that should fit you. No one will think it's odd this time of night.” Ford said, as if having read Stanley’s mind. He moved to his bag and pulled them out. He hadn't thought about actually packing clothes for Stanley, not that Stanley had an clothes to  _ pack.  _

 

Ford tossed a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve high necked sweater onto the bed before moving to grab the gauze and tape again. “Don't put on the top yet.” He instructed as he also grabbed more antibiotic cream and moved back over to the bed.

 

Stan relaxed as Ford seemed to notice his worry and nodded a little as he said he could borrow his pajamas. He found himself almost too excited about the notion of wearing  _ clothes.  _ He loved it thought, something so rare and at this point he got stupidly giddy to be able to wear them. So he nearly hurt himself with how quickly he tried to put the pants on, already half way to putting the shirt on before Ford told him not to. He frowned at that, looking like a child who had been told no before relaxing and setting it down on his lap as he saw Ford get the antibiotic cream. 

 

He breathed in deep and without needing to be told, tilted his head back for Ford, his ridiculously messy and wavy hair getting in the way which he pushed back, pouting as he messed with it, which he had done ever since it basically stopped being a mullet and became just frustratingly long hair. He wished he could cut it but knew Ford would flip out if he did. 

 

He was in his own world as he tried to brush it out with his fingers, seemingly full of emotion now that his body had gotten time to recuperate. 

 

Ford sat down and took a moment to watch Stanley mess with his hair. To watch the emotions cross his face. It was  _ good _ . It was so  _ so good. _

 

He reached forward then and moved the last few strands away from his neck to get to the cuts. He made quick work of taking care of them and covering them but after he was done he didn't move away, instead he moved a hand into Stanley’s hair and started to help him brush it out a bit, if only to see more emotions cross Stanley’s face.

 

Stan huffed a little as his fingers got caught for a moment before looking at Ford with a small frown as he came over but relaxed and closed his eyes, staying still for him as he applied the ointment and wrapped his neck up, finding the press of the gauze almost comforting. He relaxed as he focused on the feeling, the comforting thought that the ugly cuts were covered up. He then slowly blinked his eyes open as he felt Ford’s hand go through his hair and he looked confused at first, then glance down as he messed with his hair. He didn’t know what to do until a knot tugged a little and he groaned a bit, reaching back up to touch his hair over Ford’s hand.    
“Don’t you have a brush? Or scissors?” he complained with a pout, then moved for the shirt again. He pushed Ford’s hand away as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, the cutest little smile finding its way on his lips as he adjusted the sweater, his body physically relaxing as he hugged himself, hiding the bottom of his face into the turtleneck. 

 

He then remembered himself and glanced up at Ford, looking a little embarrassed before getting pouty again. “...You’re staring...I wanna eat…” he mumbled, muffled by the fabric

 

“We are not cutting your hair Stanley.” Ford reprimanded softly as he pulled his hand away, smiling happily at the look of pain he got to see on Stanley's face as his hand had gotten caught on a knot. 

 

And then his mind was short circuiting as he watched Stanley not only put on his sweater but  _ cuddle into it _ . Why had he never given Stanley his cloths before? Why had  _ this  _ never been part of taking care of him!? Could he have been watching Stanley  _ cuddle into his cloths _ this whole time?! Could he have been  _ fucking _ him like this?!

 

And oh,  _ oh,  _ that was a beautiful thought. Stanley in only Ford’s sweater being pounded into. Moaning and crying and-

 

Stan’s voice cut through and he was  _ very _ aware that he was  _ very  _ hard in that moment before before he could really think about it (not that he would have stopped himself if he had. Stanley was  _ his _ to use as he pleased) he was reaching out for him and pulling him closer, hands bunched up in the sweater Stanley was wearing. “I'll feed you then. Knees. Now.” 

 

Stan furrowed his brows and frowned. He should of cut it when he had the chance… He then glanced back up at Ford and went a little wide eyed at the look he had on his face. He knew that look. He hated that look because it only meant one thing. He tried to pull away but Ford was already grabbing him by the sweater and pulling him close. With his words he was groaning in frustration and struggled a little. “You- you said food, Ford-  _ food _ , a-actual food. I haven’t eaten in a week, please-” he immediately complained but didn’t dare try and push away from him, knowing Ford would probably hit him. “Your dick is not food-!” he whimpered, hands clutching at Ford’s arms as he tried to stay on the bed. 

 

Ford licked his lips, thankfully too distracted by the way Stanley looked to be too upset by him talking back. The maroon was such a good color on him. Gorgeous really. It reminded him of fresh bruises that Ford loved to bite and press into his skin. “Then you better work fast.” He told him, finally looking away from the way the sweater brushed along Stanley’s neck and up to his eyes. “I know how good that mouth is puppy. The faster you work the faster we get you actual food.” He insisted. “Or would you rather I punish you with no food tonight for not doing as you're told the first time around?” He threatened.

 

Stan took in a shaking breath with his words and knew there was no way out of this. He had done something to turn Ford on and wished he knew what it was so he didn’t do it ever again. He furrowed his brows, blushing as Ford praised how good his mouth was- then flashed back to last night to the men wishing they had had a gag. He winced a little, breathing in hard as his hands trembled gently but quickly shook his head as Ford threatened not eating at all.

 

He swallowed thickly as he gave in, sliding to his knees in front of Ford and looked up at him with big eyes, brows furrowed. He then half lidded them, shoulders tense as he forced himself to move forward. Just don’t think about it, just do it, just get him to cum and then he’ll be able to eat. He let out a shaky breath as he tried not to think too hard, instead just focused on rubbing a hand over the front of Ford’s crotch, glancing up at him self-consciously before moving to unzip and pull him from his pants, a breathy little sigh escaping him with the familiarity of it. 

 

He hated doing this, he hated Ford for forcing things like this on him...despite it though, he hesitantly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against the tip of his erection, eyes slipping closed as he wrapped his lips around it and began to suck, his hand brushing down what wasn’t yet in his mouth. He pressed his tongue against him, solid as he licked at the folds before pulling more of him into his mouth and glanced back up at him with those big eyes again, a soft sound escaping him with the look on Ford’s face. Seriously, what had he even done to cause this??

 

Ford couldn't look away. Not that he usually would anyway, but this was different. New.  _ Intense.  _ And oh he was loving it. 

 

He moaned as Stanley took him into his mouth, a hand coming to the back of Stanley’s head but not pushing or forcing. No. He wanted those soft movements and licks and that confused look on Stanley’s face as he glanced up at him. It was beautiful. So beautiful.

 

“Yes puppy, nice and slow. Just like that.” He moaned, his own eyes going half lidded as he watched Stanley work, wondering if the split lip would open up again or if he even wanted it to. “I bet you missed this didn't you puppy?” He sighed contently “I know how much you love having something to suck on.”

 

Stan winced a little as Ford’s hand went to the back of his head, expecting him to press or slam himself into his mouth but instead, surprisingly he just held it there. He furrowed his brows more as he was praised, called puppy and he hated the effect it was having on him. He shouldn’t like this, he shouldn’t feel heat coming to his cheeks as he sucked at him gently. 

 

As Ford asked if he had missed this, told him he knew how much he liked having something to suck, he whimpered, a soft little sound that was too vulnerable. His ears were red at this point, his hands shaking a little as he continued to stroke down what wasn’t in his mouth. He sucked a little harder, heat washing through his body and he could barely keep his eyes open. Ford was right. He did love giving oral, despite the person and despite the circumstances, it felt  _ good _ .

 

He looked up at him again, looking more vulnerable as he couldn’t help himself as he started to suck harder, suck with more intention as he moved his tongue against him, a soft little noise escaping him as he took more of him into his mouth, his body shivering as heat quickly gathered in his gut. Why was he like this? Why did he get turned on being forced to suck his own brothers cock? He was so fucked up. So unbelievably fucked up and he hated himself for it. 

 

The vibrations that went through his cock at the little noises Stanley made were wonderful and he moaned deeply at the sensation. It was obvious Stanley was loving this and Ford had no idea why Stanley kept trying to fight him whenever he ordered Stanley to suck him off. 

 

“That's It puppy. I know h-how much you love this. Bet you’ve been craving it h-haven't you. Your mouth feeling so empty.” He moaned, his hips starting to thrust lightly forward as he watched Stanley’s beautiful blush get deeper. “If you’re going to come don't do it in my pants.” He muttered, remembering suddenly that Stanley wasn't just in a sweater. “Take yourself out and y-you better catch it all in your hand. I d-don't want my. Ha-ah- Stanley~” he moaned, losing track of the thought at a particular good suck which had his cock twitching heavily.

 

Stan whimpered as he was called puppy again, feeling his mind relaxing into it which opened him up a little more, his mouth less tense which was good as Ford started to thrust his hips lightly which had him moaning around him. He stroked him with both hands, head slowly starting to bob as he got into it more only to let out an embarrassed little noise as Ford told him not to cum in his pants. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come from just blowing someone. It should be impossible and yet. 

 

He took it as permission though to pull himself out of the pants, practically pushing them down just to get to his own dick and stroke himself, causing him to let out a sharp mewl of a moan and sucked harder. With his free hand he clutched at Ford’s hip, his eyes slipping closed as he suddenly felt an overwhelming need. He pushed his head down all the way, jaw relaxing as he took Ford into his mouth fully, his throat pulsing a little with the intrusion and he whimpered, holding Ford there as he trembled, breathing through his nose before he couldn’t take it and pulled back only to start bobbing and sucking desperately, eyes looking back up at Ford as he gave into the pleasure, every little mewl and moan escaping him from around Ford’s dick. 

Through his pleasured haze, he reminded himself that Ford needed to cum first which pained him because he was already so close, so hard and trembling from needing to cum but Ford came first. It was a rule. So he forced himself to let go of himself and instead swallowed down around Ford again, another desperate moan escaping him.

 

Ford's ability to talk deteriorated quickly from there, moans and small, single syllable words being about all he could manage as Stanley enthusiastically took him. It had been so long and Ford hadn't lied when he said Stanley was good at this. Not that Ford had any comparison he could really make but that hardly mattered to him. As far as he was concerned Stanley was the  _ best. _

 

He cried out out as Stan took him down a second time, his hand tightening into Stanley’s hair as he thrust up into his mouth. He was so close,  _ so close _ . He forced his eyes back open and that's all it took to push him over the edge. The image of Stanley between his legs, mouth stretched wide around his cock,  _ in his sweater,  _ and looking do desperate and  _ turned on.  _ Ford didn't stand a chance as he held Stan’s head in place and came down his throat.

 

Stan whimpered as Ford cried out, a wave of pleasure washing over him, so so happy he could get Ford moaning so loudly. He couldn’t think straight, all he knew was that he wanted to get Ford to cum, he wanted him happy with him and he wanted him to  _ fuck _ his mouth. He moaned desperately, eyes going wide as his head was held down but quickly rolled his eyes back and closed them only to look up at Ford with a groan. 

 

He had to close his eyes again though as Ford started to cum, soft little thrusts rocking his mouth and he swallowed around him, his hand squeezing himself and with another thrust into his mouth, he was cumming hard into his own hand, little pleasured squeals leaving him around Ford’s cock, unable to moan properly but he didn’t care. All he cared about was how good this felt, how good Ford’s cock felt cuming in his throat. Once he was let up, he was falling back on his ass with a hard intake of breath, almost getting light headed with it. He just managed to keep from putting his cum covered hand on the floor to support himself. 

 

He almost felt like laying down but forced himself to keep sitting and to just breath, to try and get his head on straight after the sudden rush of pleasure he had found himself in all because of...something. He still didn’t know what he did but in his blissed out state, he was glad he did it. He slowly opened his eyes and let out another small mewl as he looked at Ford recovering from his own orgasm and pushed himself forward, back between Ford’s legs as he moved up onto his knees again to wrap his arms around him, cuddling into his stomach and looking up at him with big eyes again, tired from cuming but still happy looking. He was nearly wiggling as he expected his praise, expected Ford to tell him how much of a good boy he was. 

 

Ford moaned sadly as Stanley fell back and opened his eyes to look down at him, still in a post orgasmic haze. God he just looked so adorable there in Ford’s cloths.

 

He smiled widely as Stan moved back up and cuddled against his stomach. Perfect. This was perfect. He reached down to pet lightly as Stanley’s hair and run his fingers gently around the curve of his ear, making him wait a little longer for his praise.

 

“Good boy Stanley.” He said after a long moment. “That was so good. I've missed your mouth so much puppy. And I can see how much you missed my cock. Look how blissed out you are! So good baby.” He told him softly, pushing him away just enough so he could lean down and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Go wash your hand okay? Then we’ll get you some proper food.” He promised.

 

Stan immediately pressed into Ford's hand, cuddling into it as he looked up at him with a happy smile. He did start wiggling as Ford took his time with praising him and was about to start whining before Ford finally did. He smiled even wider, cuddling and giggling with his words, feeling so good. 

He was good. He was a good boy and Ford loved him. He sighed happily before whining as he was pushed away a little but was quickly smiling and leaning up to try and catch his lips in a cute little kiss, in his hurry catching just Ford's bottom lip. Then he was hesitating and leaning back to look at his hand, his mind telling him he would have to  _ leave _ Ford to clean his hand. He pouted and looked up at him as he instead licked his hand clean, looking cutely defiant. Once it was, he cuddled right back into Ford, trying to wiggle his way up into his lap. 

 

Ford watched in slight surprise as Stanley moved his hand forward and  _ licked _ it clean instead and yes he had gone against orders but Ford could overlook that when Stan did something like  _ this.  _ He hummed as Stan cuddled back against him and scooted back on the bed until Stan could properly crawl into his lap. Ford loved him like this. Loved when he was happy and content and  _ perfect _ like this.

 

“Thought you wanted food puppy?” Ford teased as he kissed at Stanley’s jaw. “You’re being so good puppy. I want to reward you. Come on. You need to eat.” He insisted, pushing Stanley away just enough to start fixing their cloths and tucking both of them back into their pants.

 

Stan let out a little whine at that, nodding in agreement but getting food also meant getting  _ up _ and getting up meant  _ leaving _ Ford. He didn't want to stop being held. He wished he were lighter so Ford could just carry him. He cuddled him closer before whining again as he was pushed away and glanced up at him with big eyes, watching him as he adjusted his clothes, squirming as he adjusted him back into his pants. Once he was done, he sat there pouting at Ford, trying to hold still but couldn't. His hair was still a mess and he pushed it back before moving to hug onto Ford again suddenly, cuddling his neck and licking at it lovingly, something he typically only did when he was deep into headspace. If he did have a tail it'd be wagging all over again. 

 

Ford sighed as Stan just cuddled back against him and licked up his neck. Normally this would be a wonderful development but right now  _ he _ was hungry too. He hummed lightly and rested his own head against Stanley’s shoulder. He was sure that any place they went would probably not care about the way Stanley was currently acting, not this time of night at least. But  _ Ford _ wasn't big on people seeing Stanley like this. In fact he wasn't big on people seeing Stanley in general.

 

Maybe they could just get drive through? Or even find a pizza place that delivered this late. They were in Southern California. There  _ had _ to be one.

 

He scooted towards the hotel phone, trying not to dislodge Stanley as he did so, and picked it up to call the front desk. “Hi. Yes. I was wondering if you knew any place that delivered this late? No. No. Anythings fine.” He said, petting a free hand through Stanley’s hair, trying to work it into some kind of order. “Chinese? Really? No. No that's...that's fine. I'll take the number.” He said, easily memorizing it as the sleepy sounding front desk staff rattled it off. Thank god for dingy hotels that kept staff this late. He knew it was mostly for sex work but it came in handy. 

 

He had to do some awkward maneuvers to dial the number but soon he managed to get an order placed and a delivery time of twenty minutes. He sighed as he hung up and turned his full attention back to Stanley. 

 

“How you holding up puppy? Still doing well?” Ford asked softly as he wrapped his arms back around Stanley, trying to gage where Stanley’s mind currently was. “You can bark for me if you prefer.” He offered, knowing at this point Stanley usually had trouble talking.

 

Stan felt good, he felt relaxed and it was so nice. He squirmed as Ford moved about and watched him as he talked on the phone, at one point he tried tugging at the cord which got him a bap which he immediately hid his face directly into Ford's crotch in reaction, letting out a whine. 

 

He squirmed as Ford moved around but relaxed, still hiding against him. Once he was acknowledged however he was perking up and smiling, nodding and immediately trying to climb into Ford's lap again. “woof” he let out, nearly knocking Ford back as he cuddled his neck, licking at him again as he squirmed 

 

Ford let out a startled ‘ouf’ as he fell back against the headboard as Stanley squirmed against him. He smiled happily and pressed a few kisses against Stanley own neck, or tried to until he was met with the feel of cloth. It was so odd to have Stanley  _ clothed _ but it was oddly nice, though Ford was missing the feel of skin against his hands. He shifted Stanley a little closer and snuck his fingers under his top, running them up along Stanley’s sides, avoiding his injured back as much as possible. “You’re being so good Stanley. So good puppy. Love you like this.” He praised, pressing kisses instead against his cheek. This was so much better than whatever stupor Stanley had fallen into before.  _ This _ was how Ford wanted Stanley to be all the time. 

 

“Do you want me to touch you puppy?” He offered, his hands already moving to explore a little more of Stanley’s body. “Until our food gets here. Do you want me to make you feel good?” He smiled, knowing that when Stanley was like this what made  _ Stanley  _ feel good was whatever made  _ Ford  _ feel good.m

Stan giggled as he pushed Ford back and wiggled around to get comfortable, smiling as he was pulled closer. He continued to lick at him, cuddling and kissing at his jaw, making his way down as he squirmed about. As he felt fingers sliding underneath his sweater-  _ his - _ sweater, he was calming down a little and breathing in deep with a smile as he was praised. As he heard Ford say “love you” he was all over him again, not bothering to pay attention to the rest of the sentence. Ford loved him. He loved him and he loved Ford back and he wanted so badly to express it. “Woof!” he barked, kissing and licking at Ford with more excitement than before, then blinked as Ford asked if he wanted him to touch him.    
  
He leaned back, looking at him with big eyes as he licked his own lips before grinning- out right  _ grinning  _ and quickly nodded. He barked again and wiggled his hips a little more intentionally, squirming against Ford now, already knowing what he meant by making him feel good and  _ yes _ , yes he wanted that. He shifted and rolled his hips against Ford’s thigh, already trying to rub up against him as he leaned in and gave him a mouthy kiss.

 

Ford laughed, honestly happy with Stanley’s reaction before grabbing his hips a little hard to keep them still. “Mm~ good dog.” He praised as he leaned forward to return the sloppy kiss, loving it as he moved his leg up for Stanley to rub enthusiastically against as he loosened the hold again. “Remember no cumming until I say so.” He reminded him as he reached back to grab Stanley’s ass. He wanted to fuck him so badly, flip him over and pound into him. He had been fantasizing about it for…

 

Well who was he kidding he was always fantasizing about it but right now there was one glaring problem with that plan:  _ he had no condoms. _

 

Lube, yes. Because he had been very much planning on fucking Stan the second he got his hands back on him.

 

He had  _ not _ been planning on finding out Stanley had been  _ raped _ by men that probably had a slew of STIs. Which, simply meant,  _ Ford couldn't fuck him. _

 

At least not until they had condoms or he was sure Stanley was  _ clean. _

 

Which meant touching and rubbing was about all either of them was going to get which was frustrating but It was  _ something. _ Either way he  _ was  _ interested to see how  _ Stanley  _ would take that news.

 

Stan let out a whine as his hips were held but despite it tried to keep wiggling against him, cheeks already tinging a bit pink. He looked happy though as he was praised and ran hands up Ford’s chest, trying to squirm out of his hold so he could start rubbing against him properly. As they kissed, he forgot what he was trying to do and instead focused on the feeling of Ford’s tongue against his own and moaned quietly, pushing into the kiss further. 

 

He panted as Ford pulled out of the kiss to talk and looked far too eager as Ford let go of his hips. He either didn’t hear or acknowledge what he said because as soon as he could, he was  _ rocking _ his hips down against Ford’s thigh. Then Ford was grabbing his ass and he let out a happy squeak of a moan and instead moved himself to rock his ass down against Ford’s crotch, almost trying to fuck himself through their clothing. He moved his hands down to Ford’s zipper, trying to get it open as soon as possible. Why were they even wearing clothing? Except his sweater. He wanted to stay in the comfy sweater forever. He squirmed and tried to push his own pants down, hard to do as he kept trying to rock against his brother. The proper sequence of events things had to go in always eluded him when he was like this, so focused on what he  _ wanted _ , that he couldn’t stop to  _ get _ to that point. 

“Puppy you need to calm down.” Ford laughed as Stanley seemed to be trying to fuck himself  _ through _ their cloths. That might be Ford’s fault though. Usually by this point they were  _ both _ in a lot less. Not that Stanley was ever really  _ in _ anything but that was kind of the point.

After a moment of Stanley struggling Ford simply grabbed his hips and rolled them, flipping them over until he was pinning Stanley down on the bed. “There we are. Maybe now I can get you to stop squirming.” He smiled sharply as he rolled his hips forward against Stan's. Stanley had mostly just awkwardly managed to get his pants slightly off and Ford's zipped half undone but Ford didn't bother doing anything to fix that. He was kind of enjoying teasing Stan like this.

Stan let out a frustrated whine as he couldn't seem to get it, just pouting at Ford as he said he needed to calm down. But that was the whole point of feeling good! Not calming down! He whined and rocked his hips before gasping as they were grabbed and then squeaked as he was flipped. 

As soon as his back hit the mattress though he was letting out a pained gasp. He grimaced, nearly sobering only for Ford to pull him right back as he felt him grind down against him. “Aaaha-!” He moaned out, squirming to try and find a comfortable position while on his back. 

 

As Ford rocked, he was slowly able to ignore the pain in his back. He panted, arms wrapping around Ford's neck as he tried to rock back against him, legs spreading as he pulled Ford closer. As that continued and Ford didn't move to get their pants undone, he was letting out a desperate whine and squeezed his legs around Ford's hips, tempted to try and kick his own pants off

 

Ford smirked as Stanley winced in pain as his back met the mattress. He liked that look on Stanley’s face almost as much as the look he got when he was desperate to be fucked. The combination of the two was just mind blowing. As Stanley continued to desperately beg him to fuck him without words though Ford realized he was probably going to have to try and explain to Stanley that  _ no _ they were not doing that. He  _ loved _ when Stanley got like this but sadly neither of them would be getting anything that fun tonight.

 

He shifted so he could grind down on Stanley’s hips a little harder and kissed lightly at his lips. “Not going to fuck you tonight puppy. You’re not safe to fuck.” He said, continuing to move against him, almost enjoying the friction. “You ran off and got yourself fucked by someone that wasn't  _ me.  _ So I can't fuck you now. You remember this.” He added, wondering if Stanley  _ did  _ remember that fun of their first few months together.

 

Or, well fun for  _ Ford.  _ He did love humiliating Stanley with how much of a slut he had been. He wondered if this time would be just as fun? He could probably find a way to make it into something he enjoyed at the very least. After all, he  _ did _ still have to punish Stanley for running off.

 

Stan panted and moaned desperately as Ford rocked against him, half hard already even though he came not too long ago. He squirmed and whined as Ford continued to grind against him and it got him confused, not used to this much foreplay. Usually by now he'd have at least three fingers in him. So he reached down, pawing at Ford's zipper the best he could before looking up at Ford in surprise as he said they weren't going to have sex.

 

He immediately furrowed his brows, his entire mood shifting to one of horny happiness to one of scared neediness. “h-huh?” He managed, looking confused as Ford said he remembered. He didn't. He didn't know what he had done to get punished like this. He knew sex got withheld if he was bad but...but Ford was just praising him! He was a  _ good _ boy but now… he whimpered and looked almost close to crying as he wrapped his arms around Ford, desperate little whimpers leaving him as he forced out a word despite it being difficult “n-no…? Ford…  _ ford _ ” he whimperedtrying to cuddle into him, nuzzling and pressing for forgiveness. “sorry...sorry, please? Please?” He whimpered pitifully 

 

“Shhh. Shhh.” Ford soothed through his smile, enjoying Stan’s distress a little more then he should be. “I'm sorry Stanley but that's what happens when you have sex with people that aren't me.” He told him, kissing lightly at Stanley’s lips before reaching between them to cup Stanley through his pants and start rubbing at him. “But you have been good tonight Stanley so I'm going to let you feel good okay? Do you want my fingers instead? I can give you those.” He offered, his hand moving away From Stanley’s crotch but only so he could slip his hands into his pants and start stroking him without the barrier. “Or I can let you suck me off again Stanley. It's up to you since you’ve been so good to me.” 

 

Stan let out another whimper as he was shushed but shook his head a little, squirming as he tried to figure out what he did wrong. Ford’s words just confused him further, a soft little sob escaping him as he shook his head again. He didn’t have sex with anyone? He wouldn’t! No one but Ford! He knew someone hurt him, men hurt him, he knew that but luckily in this haze he couldn’t remember details. But he wouldn’t, not ever. So he sobbed and kissed at Ford’s lips desperately as the tears spilled over. Another sound turned into a muffled cry as Ford was suddenly cupping him and he whined sharply, squeezing his eyes closed as he hid into his turtleneck a little more, hips stuttering as his mind tried to keep up with the differing answers he was getting

 

Ford said he was being a good boy but at the same time telling him he had been bad and didn’t get to have sex with him. It wasn’t fair and it didn’t make sense, it didn’t make any sense and it frustrated him. All he could do in this state though was cry and gasp as Ford pet him through his pants, then let out a loud moan as he moved his hand into his pants to stroke him directly. He squirmed and moved the back of his sleeve covered hand to his mouth as he squirmed, little sniffles escaping him through his moans. He didn’t know what he wanted other than to know why he was being bad but good. He couldn’t be both, it didn’t make sense! 

 

So he squeezed his eyes closed and whined desperately, soft little sobs escaping him as he shifted his hips and rolled into Ford’s touch

 

Ford sighed in annoyance as it become bluntly obvious that none of this was getting through to Stanley’s brain. That he wasn't in a place where he could understand any of it which meant Ford would have to do what he did best: order Stanley around.

 

“Puppy. You are thinking too much.” He reprimanded as he slowed his touch, just letting Stanley lightly thrust into his hand as he looked down at him. “You don't have to think okay? Not right now. Just listen to me. We are doing this-” he said, squeezing Stan's cock lightly “because it's what I want to do. We are doing this because I say so. Okay? That's all that matters okay puppy.” He said, voice getting a little softer as he leaned down to kiss Stanley's tear streaked cheeks. “So stop thinking and be good for me. Let me make you feel good.” He whispered, lips lightly following the tear stains as he started to lightly stroke him again.

 

Stan took in shaking breaths, his mind slowly working its way back out of sub space as he tried to figure out what he did wrong. Why was he being touched if he did something wrong? He didn’t get it. He let out another little muffled sob against his sleeve before weakly looking up at Ford as he said his name. “Mh…” he whimpered as he was reprimanded and furrowed his brows further. His hips still twitched with Ford’s hand still wrapped around him but he tried his hardest to listen to Ford instead. 

 

He breathed in a little deeper as Ford said he didn’t have to think, then moaned as he squeezed him, making his back arch a little. “Ah...ah-” he moaned as he moved a hand to Ford’s shoulder, squeezing gently as he rocked his hips again and nodded a little, biting his own bottom lip only to wince as he bit the poorly healing split. He calmed as Ford kissed at his face and slowly started to stroke him again. He easily calmed down with the new attention, with the new direction keeping him from over thinking. He wrapped his arms around Ford’s neck and moaned, breathy and quiet as he moved his hips, slowly getting a little more desperate. 

 

“That's It puppy. Just like that.” Ford praised, kissing down his cheek to his jaw and back, nipping lightly at the skin there before pulling back so he could look down at him. He still had tears clinging to his eyelashes and making his eyes shine and the little noises he was making, it was so beautiful. He leaned down for another kiss as he sped up his hand slightly, his own cock twitching in his pants just by watching Stanley.

 

“Do you like my sweater puppy?” Ford asked, deciding a change in subject was in order “because I love seeing you in it. I love seeing you looking so soft and sweet and surrounded by something that is mine. It looks so good on you puppy. I want to never have you take it off.” He moaned, his hand moving faster at the thought.

 

Stan moaned as he was told he was doing good, his mind calming back down again as he lost himself in the pleasure Ford was offering him. It felt so nice. Ford made him feel so good. He looked up at Ford as he leaned back, eyes half lidded and mouth a little open as he panted. As he was kissed, he was pressing into it needily, moaning quietly as he tried to pull him closer, his tongue pushing right into Ford’s mouth only for him to lean away to talk. He whined and squirmed but nodded with his question. 

 

He did like it, he loved it in fact. He loved the sweater, it was like a hug and it smelled like Ford and he could hide in it- He loved it and Ford was so nice giving it to him. He moaned, nodding as he clutched at his shoulders, legs spreading further as Ford’s hand sped up, making his hips twitch and jerk with need. Soft little mewl like moans were leaving him, his body rocking as he was stroked so nicely, twitching in Ford’s hand as he talked to him. 

“Mnh- Mhh~” 

 

Ford opened his mouth to say something more when a knock at their door startled him. Right. Food. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Stanley’s head before pulling his hand away. “I have a gift for you puppy.” He told him, trying to move back “but you need to stay right here and not move for me okay? I’m going to go get it.” He insisted. Pulling away and pressing a hand to Stanley’s chest to keep him down. “Stay.” He emphasized before pulling back and wiping his hand on his pants before digging for his wallet as he went to the door.

 

Stan panted, feeling his body quickly warming as Ford kept praising him but suddenly he was stopping and he went wide eyed, looking up at Ford with slight panic. “mh?” He asked the best he could, then calmed as he got a kiss to his head. Then he was looking beyond happy as Ford said he had a  _ gift _ for him and he quickly nodded his head, moving his hands down as he let Ford up despite how twitchy he felt. He squirmed just slightly, the aching in his groin making him want to rub his legs together but Ford told him not to move, so he wouldn't. He cuddled half his face back into the turtleneck and played with the knitting as he waited, running his fingers over the texture.  

 

He looked over at Ford as he opened the door and furrowed his brows as he saw someone else. He squirmed and tried to get smaller while also trying not to move, it was difficult to say the least. He frowned further as the guy glanced over at him and he quickly tried to pull the turtleneck all the way up with a soft whine. 

 

The delivery guy had seen some shit but this just looked out right weird. He tried not to draw attention to his reaction but the  _ glare _ he got from the guy giving him money almost made him jump back. Needless to say, he didn't bother to stay for a tip. 

 

Ford slammed the door behind the delivery guy with a possessive growl before turning to look at Stanley and smiling as he saw him trying to hide in Ford's sweater. He hummed and moved over to the desk and moved the sketches he had been working on aside as he put down the food. His own stomach growled hungrily as he started to take out each to-go container and organize them. He kept his eye on Stanley though, making sure he was staying put, before finally looking over at him once he had everything set up.

 

“Okay puppy. Come here.” He ordered, patting lightly on the floor next to him knowing that he wouldn't have to remind Stanley to crawl, not in this state. He hadn't  _ planned _ on feeding Stanley like this tonight but...well he wasn't one to complain.

 

Stanley relaxed and peaked over his sweater as he heard the door shut, immediately wiggling with excitement as he saw Ford had food. Oh right, he was hungry. He tried not to move but was too excited and sat up just a little bit more, eyes never leaving Ford as he arranged their food. He couldn't help the needy whine that escaped him as time dragged on.

 

Once he was being called over, he was nearly falling off the bed with how quickly he did. He crawled over and sat down obediently next to Ford in the proper position and immediately stuck his tongue out with an “Aaaaah” despite the food not yet being opened.

 

“You must be hungry,” Ford laughed as he opened the first container with some kind of sweet and sour chicken. He winced. It was far from the healthy meals he tended to prefer but it was better than starving. He skewered one onto a plastic fork and carefully got the sauce off the edge to keep it from dripping. “If you get my sweater dirty Stanley you will have to take it off.” He warned as he moved the fork over and placed the chicken at Stanley’s mouth so he could bite it off. “Good boy.” 

 

Stan squirmed as he waited, almost tempted to try and feed himself but even at the thought he was upset at himself. No! He ate when Ford fed him. Only then. He licked his lips, tongue sticking out a little before opening his mouth again once Ford was offering food. He was quick to take it and smiled as he chewed, continuing to wiggle his hips, in part because of his slowly flagging boner but in part because of how happy he got when Ford fed him. He swallowed and immediately opened his mouth for another. 

 

Ford smiled and picked up another piece, feeding Stanley slowly and carefully, stealing a few bites for himself between. They went through the sweet and sour chicken quickly and started on some broccoli beef dish that Ford had to admit he enjoyed. There was a lot of rice that Ford saved for later, figuring that it was too complicated to try and feed Stanley, and some kind of vegetable shrimp dish which he mostly ate himself by that point. Lastly he pulled out the two fortune cookies and opened the packets. He cracked the first one open and hummed before holding out a bit of cookie for Stanley to eat from his fingers as he read over what was written on the paper inside. 

 

_ You don't need strength to let go of someone, what you need is compassion and understanding. _

 

He snorted and rolled his eyes as he picked up another piece of cookie to feed Stanley. He didn't need advice like that. He didn't have anyone in his life whose disappearance would even register to him. He glanced over at the other one and frowned.

 

_ Some things, once broken, are impossible to fix _

 

What the hell did that mean? He shrugged and turned back to Stanley, smiling down at him as he took a piece of cookie for himself. “Better puppy?” He asked, keeping his hand where it was so Stanley could lick his fingers clean.

 

Stan slowly calmed down as time stretched on. As he ate, he started to feel better, his stomach not feeling like it had a knot in it any longer. As Ford slowed on what he was feeding him since they were nearly done, he gave a yawn and stretched his back, wiggling his ass a little. He then smiled as Ford asked if he was better and let out a happy woof before leaning forward to lick Ford’s hand clean. He licked his own lips, glancing at the rest of the food and then to Ford, hesitating for a long moment until finally he chanced it and slowly edged forward, nuzzling his face against Ford’s shoulder before ducking under his arm as he tried to climb back into his lap. Dinner was done right? He could move? Too late now. He wiggled and wrapped his arms around Ford’s neck despite the fact his brother was trying to eat the last bits of his food and leaned in, giving him a needy kiss which he pressed into quickly. 

 

Ford only just managed to not choke on his last bite of food as Stanley all but tackled him and had  _ just  _ managed to swallow said bite when he was being kissed  _ hard _ . He let out an indignant noise into the kiss and forced Stanley off of him and back down to the floor. “Bad dog!” He reprimanded as he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand while glaring down at Stanley. “You do  _ not _ move without my permission! Do you need another lesson?” He threatened.

 

Stan let out a sharp yip as he was shoved back onto the floor, a scared whine leaving him as he looked up at Ford with big, wide eyes. He flinched back as he was yelled at and quickly curled up, soft little whimpers leaving him as guilt swallowed him whole. Little tears pricked at his eyes as Ford asked if he needed another lesson and quickly shook his head as he stayed curled up on all fours, hiding his face against his folded arms as he tried not to cry. He whimpered and wished he could apologize but didn’t know how to without moving. Usually he apologized by blowing Ford or something similar but he couldn’t move. So he stayed where he was, cuddled up and hiding his face in the sweater and his arms. 

 

Ford took a deep breath to calm down before turning back to the food and packing it back up. He glanced at the fortunes before scoffing and throwing them into the trash. He stood up then and moved around Stanley to the mini fridge to store the food, completely ignoring the other man on the ground. That done he started to undress meticulously as always, making sure to fold each piece of clothing and place it into his bag. He then moved over to the bed and pulled back the sheets before laying out, leaving the covers open. He finally looked over at Stanley and gave him a considering look before sighing “okay puppy. Now you can come here.” He said, patting the bed next to him. 

 

Stan sniffles as he laid there, shifting a bit to get comfortable but not leaving the spot he fell to. He looked at and watched Ford as he moved around but if Ford looked over, he was quick to look away or even hide again if he looked at him for long. He closed his eyes after a long moment of waiting for Ford to dress and slowly his thoughts came back to him. His first thought was that he was tired and it slowly progressed from there. He was in pain, he was still hungry, he was upset. 

 

He was upset at Ford. All he wanted was a kiss...why...why did he want a kiss? He didn't want to kiss Ford...he blinked tiredly as Ford addressed him and a waiver of happiness hit him before he was questioning that too. He slowly got up, the expression he wore in headspace melted into the one he wore out of it, to put it shortly, depression. 

 

He slowly pushed himself up, suddenly feeling far too heavy. He kept on all fours as he moved over to the bed and climbed up onto it weakly. He then laid down heavily and moved the back of his hand over his eyes. He didn't feel good...never did coming out of sub-space. 

 

Ford had grown apt at being able to tell when Stanley was no longer lost in his own mind and it was obvious by the way he moved that he was back. Ford sighed at that. He had  _ almost _ wanted to cuddle but not with Stanley like this and certainly not when they were likely to fall asleep. “Foot of the bed Stanley.” For reminded him, too awake this time to do what they had done the night before. “I take it you are present enough to actually understand me now?” He promoted as he pulled the blankets around himself.

 

Stan felt even more depression wash over him as Ford told him to sleep at the foot of the bed. He pushed himself up and moved back down before collapsing again and breathed in deep. He hated sleeping at the foot of the bed, it was probably the most dehumanizing thing about all of this in his opinion. He wasn't even worth sleeping in the same bed as Ford...plus he was too big to make it comfortable. 

 

He curled up as best he could before hesitating and then sighing quietly as Ford talked. “...yes…” he said, forcing his voice to be clear. He tried to cuddle his face against the blankets instead of the sweater, hating that it smelled like Ford. 

 

“Good.” Ford said, turning to stare at the far wall as his leg brushed against Stanley. It would be so easy...but no. No. He had given in too much the night before, had  _ risked  _ too much. Not tonight. Not  _ tonight. _

 

“How are your injuries?” He asked first, “neck and back. Though if any others are hurting more then expected I want to know.” He insisted, letting the bluntness of his voice be a comfort. He always got so  _ emotional  _ when Stanley acted as he had just a few moments before. It was so easy to follow him down that path. “We also won't be having sex without a condom until I know you are clean Stanley. You seemed to be having a hard time with that concept earlier.” He stated.

 

“my ass hurts” he said bitterly as Ford asked about his injuries. Then he breathed in deep “...other than that...my neck hurts a little but I can ignore it” he mumbled quietly. It was such a 180 with ford...he only showed him kindness when he was in that shitty state…

 

He furrowed his brows as Ford mentioned the fact he couldn't get the idea of no sex earlier and clenched his hand tightly. “...i get it” he said. “don't want to anyway” he grumbled before grunting and sitting up suddenly. He was quick to yank the sweatshirt of and tossed it on the floor before laying back down, turning his back to Ford.

 

Ford is startled into sitting up as Stanley does and watches in surprise as he pulls off the sweater in anger before tossing it to the ground. Ford feels his own anger build hot at that and he shifts on the bed and contemplates grabbing Stanley and throwing  _ him _ to the ground too. Making  _ him  _ sleep on the floor. “What is your problem?!” He yells instead, glaring at Stanley’s back as he balls his hands into fists “I have been nothing but  _ good _ to you these last few days, even after you  _ ran away from me _ and  _ this _ is how you show your gratitude?! I should make you sleep on the floor! Maybe then you will appreciate that sweater! It's not like I'll be giving you anything else to wear!”

 

Stan winced as Ford yelled and closed his eyes harder. He then curled up a little more, his chest aching horribly. “...was itchy” he mumbled, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He breathed in deep as Ford kept yelling and wiped at his eyes. “not like you do usually…” he whispered. He then slowly pushed himself up and looked over at Ford, looking too close to how he looked before. 

“...on the floor then?” He asked, slowly feeling himself get numb to it all. He wanted to go back to subspace...at least then Ford wasn't so cold to him, at least then he actually seemed to care about him. Tears slipped down his face but his expression didn't waver. 

 

Ford opened his mouth to yell more only to hesitate as he saw that look come but to Stanley's eyes. He felt himself start to panic. Fifteen hours he had had to see that look.  _ Fifteen _ . And the panic cut off his anger abruptly and of all the stupid things to enter his mind in that moment it was that god _ damned  _ fortune cookie.

 

_ Some things, once broken, are impossible to fix _

 

He deflated and let out a deep sigh before moving to lay back down, feeling his chest ache for unknown reasons. “Just go to sleep Stanley.” He mumbled against his pillow “we’ll be driving home tomorrow. We’ll need the rest.” 

 

Stan just stared at Ford, waiting to be beat or punished but as Ford seemed to relax, his expression wavered with confusion. He didn’t question it long however and was slowly nodding, relaxing himself as he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “Okay...goodnight” he mumbled, which is more than he ever gave at night, usually just going quiet and ignoring Ford. He slowly laid back down and shifted about before shivering and curling up a little more. He’d be fine, he’d gotten used to being cold while he slept, the pants were more than keeping him warm… and yet he couldn't stop thinking about the sweater. 

 

Eventually though he did fall asleep, curled up as he usually had to at the foot of the bed. He woke up tired and groggy, slowly pushing himself up and rubbing at his eyes. What was unusual though was he woke up before Ford. He stared at him for a moment, wild ideas and thoughts going through his mind.  _ Run away _ , cuff him and run away,  _ kiss him _ , run away,  _ kill him _ . With the last one, he was wincing and putting a hand to his head, squeezing his eyes closed. Invasive thoughts, that's all it was...He swallowed and glanced over at the sweater and then back at Ford before moving to put it back on despite his pride. It  _ was _ comfortable…

 

The nightmare started up just like it usually did. The laugh filling up the darkness. Echoing and echoing and echoing until the pounding drum of Ford’s heart started to drown it out, mix with it. He started to move. Tried to move. Reached for something to defend himself but his arm was caught, held tight by inky blackness as he thrashed around.

 

“You’ve been putting things off too long sixer.” The familiar voice laughed as Ford started to fully panic, thrashing back and forth. “How long do you think you can keep this up?” The voice said, a single eyeball blinking open in the vastness of nothing around them “another year? Two? Three? Face it sixer! You’ll give in eventually and me?” The eye suddenly zoomed in upon him, becoming impossibly large as Ford tried to pull away. “I’ll be waiting~”

 

Stan blinked as he saw Ford thrash and furrowed his brows, frowning a little as he tried to figure out if he should wake him. What was wrong, a nightmare? He watched nervously, hands pulling at the sweater now around him again. “...Ford? Ford...it's morning...it's time to wake up and go home” he said, voice soft as he said the word home. Some home it was…

 

Ford woke up with a gasp and set up with a panic, backing away across the bed as he looked around, half blind as his glasses fell obscurely from his face. Why hasn't he taken them off? Where was he?! Why was-

 

His eyes fell on the lump at the bottom of the bed and felt a wave of various emotions wash over him. The confusion made way for relief which made way for fear which made way for anger. Stanley was  _ here _ Stanley had  _ seen. _

 

“Get out.” He said, voice harsh as it all came crashing down “GET OUT!” He yelled, struggling to untangle himself from the bed sheets. Stanley couldn't see him like this. He  _ couldn't.  _ “ _ NOW!” _

 

Stan watched with morbid curiosity. He'd never seen Ford like this before. Was he having a nightmare? He had to be right? He pressed his lips together before jumping as Ford woke up suddenly and fled to the top of the bed, looking like a spooked animal. 

 

A wave of schadenfreude hit him hard, pleasure going through him at seeing  _ Ford  _ curled up rather than him. It was quickly crushed however as Ford remembered where he was and immediately got to screaming at him, making him jump back again and looked scared himself before quickly running for the bathroom, not about to stick around for Ford to start beating him. 

 

He slammed the door behind him and leaned heavily against it, breathing hard as he tried to figure out what just happened.

 

Ford let out a frustrated growl as he gripped his hair harshly and closed his eyes tight. Damn it.  _ Damn it!  _ Could he not get a  _ single _ moment of piece?! Could he not have  _ one night?!  _

 

He was up on his feet before he even thought about it and ripping one of the light fixtures out of the wall in a fit of anger which just got worse when he failed to be able to throw it  _ because the cord kept it attached to the wall _ . He went for the chair after that and threw that instead, satisfied when it hit the wall and created a large hole in it. The lamp, bedding, and alarm were next to go, crashing around the room as he let out his anger. It took him a long moment to remember that Stanley was still there as he breathed hard, trying to calm down. Stanley was  _ there _ and that made him want to go and use  _ him  _ for stress relief but  _ Stanley was injured. _

 

_ Stanley was injured because he ran away. _

 

He growled at that thought and went over to the bathroom door and pounded on it violently his mind reminding him that this,  _ all of this,  _ was Stanley’s fault! He never would have had to leave the house if Stanley hadn't have run away! Stanley would never have been injured if he hadn't run away!  _ He would have been able to fuck his anger away if Stanley hadn't run away! _

 

But no!  _ No!  _ He was stuck in the god awful hotel  _ hours away from home _ all because of  _ Stanley! “OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW STANLEY!”  _ He yelled against it, pounding it again “ _ STANLEY!” _

 

Stanley flinched and whimpered as he heard things crashing, his body already aching as he imagined the pain he was about to go through. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out why he was so mad. Because he saw him vulnerable? Was he that mad he showed him some genuine emotion?

 

Stan then let out a terrified sound as Ford pounded on the door and shouted for him to open it, which had him confused. Why didn't he just open it? It wasn't locked. He took in a hard breath and forced himself to turn around, he then grit his teeth as he opened up the door with ease and looked up at Ford with big eyes as he tried to stay put, tried not to back away, tried not to seem like he wanted to be away from Ford, knowing that always pissed him off more. Maybe if he was good he wouldn't beat him as badly…

 

He swallowed hard and before Ford could react, he was moving down onto his knees and getting into his proper waiting position like Ford always wanted. He looked up at him before looking down, trembling just slightly. 

 

Ford moved to grab at Stanley’s sweater only to hesitate long enough for Stanley to kneel down as he realized that  _ Stanley was in his sweater.  _ He had put it back on…

 

Again he felt a rush of emotions enter him as he looked down at Stanley's still swollen and bruised face as he kneeled down for him. Kneeled properly and looked up at him terrified just waiting for Ford to do whatever he wanted. 

 

He felt himself relax at that. Felt a little more control enter into his mind. He couldn't control Bill. He couldn't control his dreams. He couldn't control his anger. But he could control  _ Stanley  _ and that was enough. 

 

He felt his hands relax at his sides as he let out a deep sigh before moving his hand to pet lightly at Stanley’s hair. “Come on puppy. We better get going before someone calls the cops. Let's go home.” He mumbled. He didn't want to do anything else anymore but that. Just get home and figure things out from there.

 

Stan’s breath was hard as he sat there, waiting for Ford to hit him, to throw him to the floor and stomp on his stomach. So as he was  _ pet  _ instead, he was looking up at Ford with wide, surprised eyeshadow. 

 

Happiness went through him, pride even at being able to calm Ford down so quickly with just waiting obediently for him. He licked his own lips and nodded a little as Ford told him they should get going. 

 

Lucky for them that was easy enough with Ford's habit of putting things away as soon as he was done with them so no packing was needed. He crawled as he followed Ford out, not liking it but figuring he needed to to keep Ford calm. He sat back down and waited at the door like a good dog, looking up at his brother with a much calmer expression now that the fear of being hit was over. 

 

Ford was silent as he grabbed his bag and the food and hesitated for a moment at the present he had brought with him before picking that up too. He let Stanley move ahead of him, smiling lightly as he didn't once stand up and moved to open the door for him before closing it once he was in. He threw his stuff into the back and moved to the driver side and wasted no time getting them out of there and on the highway. It was late morning by that point which meant they had (thankfully) missed the morning traffic and so Ford let himself relax a little more.

 

It was about an hour later that he pulled off to get them some food from a drive thru and parked off to the back of the lot. He fumbled a little as he handed Stanley a burger before pulling out the present again and putting it on the dashboard. “You should probably open it before you eat. I don't want it getting dirty yet.” He mumbled softly, honestly wondering how Stanley would feel about the present.

 

Leaving the room had him blushing heavily, tight jitters in his chest as he hoped no one saw him crawling around on the asphalt. It hurt his hands and knees so once he was in the car, thankfully sitting like a human, he was letting out a deep breath while Ford couldn’t hear him. He wiped his hands together before looking in the mirror and tried to fix his hair, hating how knotted it was. He hated how long Ford insisted it be, wishing he could at least put it up most of the time but Ford liked it down so that’s how it stayed. He pushed his hair back once he got most of the tangles and looked over at Ford nervously as he got in the car. He was quiet as they drove, just looking out the window and dozing off as time went on. He wasn’t supposed to speak unless spoken to so he kept quiet, not wanting to take any chances on pissing Ford of. 

 

As they got food, he was half expecting to have to do something for it like yesterday but relaxed when all Ford did was hand it to him. He mumbled a quiet little “Thank you”, figuring ford couldn’t get mad if all he was doing was being polite. He nearly done opening his burger, about to stuff it right into his mouth when Ford pulled out a box and put it on the dashboard. He stared at it nervously for a second before looking at Ford as he talked. He swallowed and slowly set his food down before gently picking the box up. It looked nice...he just hoped whatever was inside was too. 

 

As he opened it, his face didn’t show much of anything, not anger nor excitement. He did seem a little interested though. He wasn’t at all surprised on what it was, having expected Ford wouldn’t know how to give a gift not pertaining to this puppy play he’d forced on him. So he hesitantly picked the collar out of the box and ran a thumb over the gold name tag, his own name etched in cursive on the front. He flipped it over to see if it had more like actual tags did but luckily it didn’t. He brushed his thumb over the lettering before letting out a slow breath of resignation. He hesitantly looked over at Ford and offered a small smile. “It’s nice” he said, surprised at how genuine he sounded. 

 

Ford watched for Stanley’s reaction and frowned as he didn't get much of anything at first. He watched as Stanley examined it and Ford licked his lips nervously. He watched Stanley trace over his name before looking up at meeting Stanley's eyes. His breath hitched at how sincere Stanley's words and smile seemed before smiling lightly himself. “I remembered how much you liked the gold chains at dads shop when we were kids so I-” he licked his lips nervously again “I thought it was appropriate. Do you...want me to put it on?”

 

Stan watched him, finding himself liking his brother’s reaction. He liked surprising him...he liked seeing him not mad...He hesitated, looking almost startled as Ford reminded him of their childhoods, something he never talked much about but he slowly relaxed as he actually chose the pendant because he had paid attention to something he liked. He smiled a little wider and nodded a bit, looking down at it before looking back at Ford and licked his own lips before hesitantly nodding and handing it over to Ford, setting the box down. “Uhm...not too tight p-please” he almost whispered, knowing Ford thought it wasn’t his place to ask for things. “Don’t want it pressing on the...the name” he breathed, hands nervously moving and playing his fingers together as he didn’t know what else to do with them. 

 

“Don't worry. I know how to take care of you.” Ford reminded him, though his voice was still soft as he took the collar and opened it up he scooted a little closer to Stanley to move it around his neck and fastened it on the last hole, leaving it with plenty of space between it and Stanley’s skin. Ford smiled happily, finally seeing it on Stanley after all this time, even if it did look a little funny over top the sweater he was wearing. Ford leaned forward a little more as he lightly brushed his fingers over the collar. “I'm going to kiss you now.” He told him, leaning in to do just that.

 

Stan hesitated with Ford’s words, a little nervous he stepped over a boundary but he said it so calmly...He nodded and shifted a little closer to him, swallowing thickly as he moved his arms around his neck. As it was fastened, he relaxed and smiled a little as Ford looked at it, not used to seeing him smile when he wasn’t out of subspace. It was...nice. Really nice. Then Ford was surprising him even more as he told him he was going to kiss him, actually giving him time to prepare for it. So as Ford kissed him, he wasn’t as tense as he was when Ford surprised him with them. He didn’t kiss back at first, his eyes just slowly falling shut before actually giving in. He didn’t feel the anger he usually did when he was normal. He just...felt like this was how it was. And after everything...he guessed he was finally getting that. He slowly kissed Ford back for the first time in twenty years. The last time, they were in their teens and he was naive. 

 

Now though...he guessed there wasn’t a life besides this for him. Plus the kiss was so nicely gentle...He pressed in more on his own decision, a hand moving up to cup Ford’s cheek. Then he was pulling away a little to look at Ford, his breathing a little hard. He swallowed before leaning back in and kissing him again with more intention. 

 

Ford was shocked when Stanley returned the kiss and that only led to more shock as when he moved in for a second kiss Stanley met him half way. He moaned into it, the hand that had been on the collar around Stan’s neck moving up to cup the back of his head, pulling him a little closer as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, wanting more. More of Stanley kissing him.  _ Returning  _ the kiss. He always loved it when he did so, even if most of the time they were when Stanley was lost in his mind. This was nice though. This was...sweet. 

 

Stan furrowed his brows as Ford moved a hand to cup the back of his head, still a little jumpy to his movements. He hesitated in the kiss as Ford pushed it deeper, the relaxed feeling edging way to the nervous sick feeling he had when Ford forced him into more and more he didn’t want to do. He didn’t abruptly stop the kiss like he usually did though, just kissing him back before slowly stopping the kiss and left it lingering as he breathed, mingling with Ford’s breath. He knew if they continued, he’d end up with Ford’s cock in his mouth so using what he’d learned, he mumbled a quiet little. “I want to go home…” to try and encourage the idea he thought it was home. That and he couldn’t eat if he was giving Ford road head. 

He leaned in for another little kiss before leaning back, glancing down with a shy smile before fidgeting a little in his seat, nervous to how Ford would react to him ending the kiss. 

Ford blinked a little as the kiss slowly ended, not really registering why that had happened as he was left looking at Stanley with a mix of shock and confusion. If had been a nice kiss but...usually they went so much further. He was just about to press in for another when Stan spoke up and his heart did a small jump when Stanley said he wanted to go home.  _ Home. _ He still hesitated though until Stanley leaned forward for another small kiss and wiggled in his seat which had Ford smiling lightly and laughing, a small amount of color coming to his cheeks as he backed off. “Ya alright.” he said, putting his own meal off to the side as he started the car back up, not really feeling like eating anymore when he could be speeding them  _ home. _ “Let’s go.” 

 

Stan glanced at him with such shock it almost hurt. Did he just laugh? Was he  _ blushing _ ??? He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched Ford express such a rare emotion before letting out a little squeal of a laugh as Ford nearly tore out of the parking lot. “Sixer!” he laughed, holding onto the door handle before relaxing and heaving a sigh as they got on the road. He smiled and shook his head before finally buckling and reaching for his food again only to glance at Ford to see him staring when he could. “What? I-sorry, should I not be talking? I can shut up- sorry-” he said quickly, scared he was going to ruin the moment for talking. Did Ford still want him to be an obedient dog after all that? He could never read him. 

Hearing Stanley call him ‘sixer’ was another shock for the day that seemed to be full of surprises and he couldn’t help but actually  _ stare _ at Stan as he was reminded about how much he actually  _ enjoyed _ that nickname and how many positive emotions it held when Stanley said it. For so long he had only been able to associate it with Bill and Stanley hadn’t said it since...god since they were in their early teens. It made his stomach twist painfully with an emotions he couldn’t name. As Stanley turned to look at him he was quickly turning back to face the road, not wanting Stanley to see whatever emotion was currently on his face and draw conclusions. “No it’s...it’s...fine.” he mumbled, hesitating, before taking his right hand off the wheel and reaching over to carefully find Stanley’s own. They hadn’t held hands since they were teens either and Ford’s breath hitched as they still seemed to fit together perfectly. His six framing Stan’s five, keeping them protected within the confines of his own. It was...perfect. Every part of it and he hadn’t felt this complete in...in a very long time.

Stan watched him before relaxing as he said he was okay but did flinch as he saw Ford move his hand towards him, expecting to be hit but instead he felt that hand over his own. He looked at it with confusion, glancing at Ford for a moment before slowly moving his hand with Ford’s, letting them slip together properly. He looked at their hands for a long moment, a smile finding its way onto his face and he sighed happily, squeezing Ford’s hand gently as he glanced at him. He then shifted to get comfortable. He ate quickly like he always did when he forgot to slow down and once he was done with his food, he was shifting again and cuddling into the turtleneck, his hand still holding onto Fords. He glanced at him and hesitated as he moved to speak up. “...Can I take a nap?” he asked quietly, wondering if he’d let him. 

Ford was thankful for the easy drive which allowed him to continue to hold Stanley’s hand and just enjoy himself for once in what felt like an age. He glanced over at Stanley as he asked if he could take a nap and he nodded slightly, reluctantly letting go of his hand. “Go ahead puppy, we still have a long way to go.” He mumbled.

Even with how fast they were driving they still wouldn't arrive at gravity falls until nearly 1am that night. Stanford wasn't too worried about that though. He had gotten more then enough sleep these last two days if he had managed to have  _ dreams  _ so he didn't mind driving the whole way through.

He didn't expect though, seven hours into the trip to be met with the sight of  _ fireworks _ going off in the rearview mirror as as they just started to leave Sacramento. He watched them explode in surprise before pulling off to the side of the road to properly look at them. Right. Today was the Fourth of July. He knew it was soon but he had lost track. He watched the explosions in the distance for a moment before reaching out for Stanley again. It was nice. This...what ever this was; it was nice. 

Stan slept soundly, dazing every couple of hours as he woke up but didn’t stay awake long. As the car stopped and felt Ford’s hand on him again he was slowly waking up with a yawn and stretched himself a little bit. “Hmm?” he mumbled, looking at him with tired eyes before jolting as a bright light went off in the sky. He was confused for a second, not knowing what they were looking at before getting it as another and then another went of. He watched with surprise. Was it really July 4th? He blinked and looked over at Ford, surprised he even stopped for them. He slowly relaxed before sitting back in his seat before smiling and looking at Ford, tugging at his hand a little. “...Want to lay on the hood and watch them? We could...cuddle. I know you usually don’t like to when I’m normal but...it’d be nice” he asked quietly, not used to talking to Ford, let alone making suggestions. 

Ford watched a few more go off before looking over at Stanley and frowning lightly. It had been a while since he’s done anything like that with Stanley and...well they would be home in another handful of hours at which point things would be back to normal. He...he could indulge himself for now couldn't he? He nodded and let go of Stanley’s hand to get out of the car and climb onto the hood, waiting for Stanley to join him before pulling him close. He felt he should say something but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he couldn't think of anything to say. Today almost didn't seem real in a way and if felt like opening his mouth would just ruin it so he kept it closed and watched the fireworks.

Stan rose his brows a little when Ford agreed and smiled. He let Ford get out first, figuring it might make him feel more secure before getting out and joining him up on the hood. He got comfortable against Ford, cuddling right up against him and nuzzling his face into his chest before looking up at the sky as fireworks went off. 

It was nice...to be held while he could think. Ford was nice to cuddle against...he felt so sturdy, like a consistency he knew would always be there, unlike the rest of the crap in his life. He relaxed with his thoughts and pressed closer before slowly glancing up at him, pressing his lips together as he watched the lights bounce off of Ford’s face. He hesitated a moment before leaning up and giving him a sweet kiss before cuddling back down and giving a muffled giggle against his chest. He glanced up at him again, still hiding a bit with a smile. “...I like soft kisses...just...in case you feel like kissing me while i'm like this” he mumbled quietly.    
  
Then he was getting a distant look and shifted a bit, sitting up a little. “...I’m sorry for running off” he said quietly, scared to bring it up but...well he could think and Ford would know he was genuine and not just lost in his own head trying to apologize for something he didn’t understand. He then cuddled back down with Ford and hid against his neck. “I...I know how good I have it with you now” he said, hating the twinge in his chest. He still hated the circumstances, he hated that Ford treated him like less than human most of the time but it was better than a life with Rico. 

“I’m gunna try harder to be good...I promise” he said quietly, glancing back up at the sky as the fireworks continued. 

Ford was silent through all of Stanley’s words, just listening to them and letting them wash over him before letting out a deep sigh. “Thank you Stanley.” He finally said, his words sincere as he looked up at the fireworks. He didn't really know what else to say to show just how much those words meant to him. How much Stanley deciding to  _ stay _ meant to him. The thought that maybe he  _ wouldn't  _ have to lock him up every day…not that he would trust Stanley with that just yet. Stanley would still have to prove himself but it would be nice to maybe have some more days like this.

“I’m going to heal your neck when we get home.” He said after a long moment. He had been thinking about it since Stanley had gone doll-like on him. He didn't like the memory and he had no attachment to the letters. They could go. “I started blueprints yesterday while you were out. It should be done in a few days then I can fix you up like...like none of this ever happened.” He said lightly. 

Stan breathed nervously as Ford didn't reply immediately but then relaxed and felt warmth spread through him as he so genuinely thanked him. He nodded and cuddled closer, closing his eyes before looking back up at the sky. 

Then he was looking up at him with wide eyes as he said he was going to heal his neck. Confusion went through him,  frustration as well before he was thinking about what Ford had said. He said it would take too long, not that he wouldn't do it. He smiled and sat up further, looking down at Ford with a genuine smile. “thank you” he said before leaning down and kissing him gently.  Then he was hesitating and smiling as he leaned back to look at him. “besides...your collars look better” he mumbled, cheeks tinging pink at the admission.

Ford returned the kiss, for once letting Stanley fully lead it as his hand lightly brushed over Stanley’s arm. He blinked as Stanley pulled away before smiling brightly at his words, his eyes shining as the finale started in front of them. “They do don't they? They look so beautiful on you.” He mumbled, bringing his hand up to Stanley’s neck to lightly run fingers around the golden collar and then under the the sweater underneath. “Though I'll admit I love seeing you in my cloths Stanley. I never thought…” his eyes traveled down, taking in as much as he could before looking back up into Stanley’s eyes with a soft smile. “I’ve got plenty sweaters at home that you can wear. I-I would love to see you in them.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss, consciously keeping it soft.

Stan felt his cheeks getting brighter at how genuine Ford sounded as he said he looked beautiful with the bruised collars Ford would mark him with. He giggled a little, surprised at how nice he felt. He let out a soft sigh as Ford moved a gentle hand against his neck, still a little worried this was all a trick and Ford would turn it into a cruel punishment. 

He looked up at the sky again as the finale started and smiled wider as he watched it before looking at Ford with slight surprise. He liked him dressed? He couldn’t help his laugh as he cuddled closer and smiled gently. “Really?” he then pressed his lips together as Ford looked him over, feeling embarrassment rather than disgust this time around.   

He glanced up again before looking at Ford and smiling as he said he’d love to see him in them more. He chuckled and kissed him back before giggling a little “Well I’d love to be in them more” he said, smiling and kissing him again before looking back up at the sky as the fireworks dwindled out. If this was a dream...he really didn’t want to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> And another! Whoo! Life got in the way of us doing these on time but we're still going to finish the SOS project. Hope you guys enjoyed!
> 
> As always I rped Stan, my friend rped Ford ( +Rico and the thugs)


End file.
